Stimulus
by Eternitys End
Summary: A/Y Yaoi. Youji Kudou thought he was unbreakable; he thought wrong. Now he needs help picking up the pieces, but will he find the help he so desperately needs? *Chapter Eleven is UP but UNEDITED.*
1. Prologue

Stimulus  
  
Written by Eternity's End, edited by Felicity Honenburg. A/N: This fic was extremely difficult to write; much time and effort has been poured into it. The tenses may be confusing, as the fic progresses from memory to reality. Please review; I look for your honest opinion, in the hopes that it will improve me as a writer. This is my first yaoi. Please tell me what you think.  
  
//This is a memory or dream sequence.//  
  
Warnings: This fic will contain yaoi, meaning m/m relations. (Yay!)  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz. Regrettably.  
  
Prologue:  
  
A person is influenced by outward stimuli his entire life. No event passes without leaving a mark. The mark can be positive or negative, pushing a person in to his role in life. Sometimes, the mark scars, leaving him a completely different person. Such was Youji Kudou's case.  
  
Youji awoke in a cold sweat, the slippery silk sheets clinging to his heaving chest. He pulled the sticky cover off his chest, batting it away with his feet. Running a cool hand over his overheated forehead, he tried to pull himself together.  
  
"Just a dream, just a dream, just a." He tried to reassure himself, the mantra becoming all too familiar to his lips. "Shit." He whispered after a few choruses. "It wasn't just a dream."  
  
  
  
Thus had Youji Kudou awoken every night for the past week. Every night, the same nightmare haunted his sleep. It never changed. The scene replayed over and over in his mind.  
  
//The dim cell. The iron cross, strung through the window of the door, casting the eerie shadow of a crucifix across his crumpled body. The blood, oozing from the wounds of his bound wrists, clotting only to be ripped open anew. A hollow, biting pain in his battered right shoulder. Slowly, the heavy door to the cell inches open. The shadow of the crucifix is replaced with that of a body. There is laughter, soft chuckling at the sight of beauty being held in such inhumane conditions. The amused body steps in, the door slams shut behind him. And the body approaches, stepping carefully around the pools of blood. A whimper escapes the incapacitated body as the chuckling figure leans over, his face pulled from the shadows for the first time. "Hello, kitten. I hope you had a good sleep." The orange locks brush his face, a mocking, gentle caress. And the bolt is heard, drawn heavily across the door. Locking Youji inside with the madman.//  
  
  
  
Youji ground the palm of his hand furiously into his eyes, hoping to banish the sleep and with it the memories. But rather than banishing the dream, the movement clarified the memories. Bound around each wrist was soft cloth, stanching the blood there, speeding the recovery of the gashes. Mournfully, he brought his hands down to his lap again, allowing the memory to run its course. Hopefully, then, it would be satisfied to leave him be.  
  
//The long hours of morning are spent enduring the hot breath along his neck and painfully heavy touches along his bruised body. Eventually, the preliminary torture stops; he is stupid enough to be relieved.//  
  
Youji's breathing came in ragged gasps as the memory played out. Knowing what came next, he tensed; though his mind realized it was only a memory, his body refused to believe.  
  
//Dragged up, his surely dislocated arm hangs over the madman's shoulders. The pain is unbearable; Youji whimpers because he knows the German to be most gentle of the four. His breath leaves him as the man under him begins to move, Youji tries to put his feet under him, to keep his body from dragging along. His limbs refuse to cooperate; he is helpless.//  
  
//His new residence is nicer than the last. Youji notices this as he is dropped to the clean tile floor. He attempts to bring his head up, to survey his surroundings. But whatever drug they have given him, the one that keeps him from walking on his own, from putting up any fight, inhibited the simple act. Even speech is beyond him. Whimpers, winces, and small mewls of pain are the only expressions of his discomfort.//  
  
//He is left lying there for a time. An hour, a minute, a day, Youji can't tell. Eventually, he fades into unconsciousness. What seems a second later, a shoe rudely awakens him. Roughly, certainly with less care than his previous handler had used, Youji is set upright. "Look at this, Schuldig! What did you give him?" A voice asks with some annoyance. "How was I supposed to know the right dosage?" Youji hears the response. His head is pulled up, roughly by his hair. Youji is confronted with a narrow face framed by large glasses. "I knew something like this would happen." Youji watches the new man's mouth move, confused when the words don't match up. "Of course you should have! You're the fucking oracle!" Footsteps are heard, accompanied with greetings. His head is released, only to be captured again with a new pair of hands, grasping him by the chin. "There's no real harm done." The boy speaks, his long brown bangs covering his eyes. "He won't last as long though." A presence, previously unknown to Youji makes a noise of protest. "Calm down, Farf." Schuldig sounds amused. Youji desperately wants to look up, to know the distance between himself and his four threats. "We'll let you have him afterwards. Promise." His head is dropped, and it falls backwards limply. A monstrous combination of black metal, leather, and unidentifiable objects greet him from his new perspective. Youji can hear many footfalls. They are all nearing.//  
  
//The next time period is blurred beyond the point of recognition. Truly a blessing for the tortured man. There is the vague memory of being lifted, straps being tied in place, and of clothing being removed. Snippets of visual are virtually nil. Only a bit of dialogue comes through with clarity. "I still don't know where you found something like this." "You can buy a lot of things on the internet." "I never knew Nagi could be such a pervert. I'm so proud!" "Hmm. Move." Then there is pressure all over his body. Feelings of pain, humiliation, and anger coursed through Youji's veins. Things were whispered in his ears; mouths bit and suckled, bruising flesh; he is impaled, choked, squeezed, beaten and cut. The feelings come through with more clarity than anything else. Youji is over all abused. And the entire time, he is helpless to stop it.//  
  
Youji jolted out of bed suddenly, grabbing for the door and rushing down the hall. He made it to the bathroom in time to be violently ill. Dry heaves continued long after there was nothing to come up. Mournfully, he looked himself over in the mirror. His hair was plastered to his face, blood smeared on his lip, a wound having reopened when he got sick, his naked chest covered with dulling bruises and small, scarring cuts. What used to be a tall, thin man now looked starved, gaunt, and slightly hunched. A beautiful creature, made for seduction, was now a beaten mongrel, hoping only for a comfortable corner in which to curl up and die. Youji Kudou looked wholly broken. With a wry smile, Youji acknowledged the fact that he was.  
  
//After countless times of being beaten and raped, humiliated and broken, Youji is let down. One of them lays him out on the ground, unconscious in a growing pool of his own blood. Three quarters of the group leaves. One remains. Youji is awakened by sharp digging pain, dangerously close to a vital part of his anatomy. Thankful that the drug has, for the majority, worn off, at least slightly, Youji wrenches his body out of the way before lifting his head to see what has been attacking him.//  
  
//Farfarello crouches where Youji had once been, a satisfied look on his face, licking the blood off of one of his blades. Youji scrambles to get up, only to painfully learn his wrists are still bound. The mad Irishman smiles, watching Youji contort with agony. Before this moment, he had been unaware of how injured he was.//  
  
//Still smiling, Farfarello crawls to crouch beside him again. This time, Youji watches as the knife dips down, carving at the flesh just above his hip. He hisses in pain, watching the blood ooze out of the perfectly formed, upside down cross. He watches in horror as Farfarello's head dips down, allowing his tongue to play in the growing pool. Humiliation burns in Youji's cheeks as his body begins to react to the arousing stimulus. He shuts his eyes, begging anything and everything to make it stop. Seconds later, his prayers are answered.//  
  
Youji shuddered as the memories refused to release him. It seemed they would never end. A hand traveled down to his left hip, feeling the thick bandage that covered the healing wound. It would scar. There was no helping it. And as he analyzed his wounds, Youji wondered as to how he saw one of his captors equally as his savior.  
  
//The door slides open, and there stands Schuldig. Farfarello's head pops up at the sound. His eye narrows. "You said I could play," he says, explaining his actions. "I even got a reaction." Farfarello points proudly at Youji's half-mast erection. "Crawford." Schuldig makes a face. "He says we have to return the kitten or else the cats will come looking for him." Farfarello tilts his head. "Then we can play with all of them." Schuldig shrugs his shoulders. "I ran that by him. He doesn't think it's a good idea." Disgruntled, Farfarello stands to leave, muttering obscenities under his breath. "Hear that, kitten? You get to go home." Schuldig gives him a winning smile. "But you'll come play with us again, right?" Youji wants to respond, wants to scream at the cocky bastard, but his throat is parched, his lips cracked and bleeding. A dry hiss of air is as far as he got. "Now let's see about getting you dressed. Maybe we'll clean up some of those wounds? If I'm going to be lending you clothes, I don't want them getting all bloody." Youji's skin crawls at the thought of wearing Schuldig's clothes, but he stays silent for two reasons. One is that his throat is too dry to work; the other is that he doesn't want to risk his impending freedom.//  
  
Youji shivered, Schuldig had been almost gentle in treating his wounds.  
  
//He binds the cuts that still bleed, going so far as to put disinfectant on the worst. All the while, amused as Youji quivers in fear. Schuldig helps him into a pair of boxers and old jeans. He unbinds his hands to work him into a shirt, loving how Youji tenses with each touch. Then, after rebinding his wrists, he stands Youji up. Youji immediately falls over. It takes more than half an hour for the blonde to find his feet as well as the coordination to walk. The fact that Schuldig had neglected to tend to his shoulder doesn't help the problem. But Youji isn't complaining, because within the hour he is on his way home. Schuldig drives him himself, all the way up to the back door of the Koneko. There, he ties a little red bow around Youji's neck, punches him in the face, pushes him out, and speeds off into the sunset. Youji is left there, unconscious, for over an hour.//  
  
Youji fingered the split lip, realizing he hadn't tended to it since it had reopened. Opening the cabinet with a wince, having used his bad shoulder, he found cotton balls and witch hazel to clean it.  
  
//Ken is the one to find him, tripping over him as he exits the back with a flat of perennials. Aya and Omi join him shortly, running to discover the source of his scream. The flower shop closes early that day. The three work together to get their teammate up the stairs to the apartment. There, with smelling salts, he is revived. The trio fixes him up, tending to the wounds the German neglected. Youji is in and out of consciousness the entire time. That is, until Aya realigns his shoulder in its socket. Then he is awake and cursing. His teammates ask him endless questions, and no one seems to care that they get no answers. They feed him, give him something to drink, and leave him to sleep.//  
  
//The next day, after Aya inquires as to information that Youji disclosed, and is reassured he hadn't talked, the entire topic of Youji's captivity iss dropped. It isn't that they are complying with Youji's wishes. They really seem to have no interest. Torture is natural in their profession. It is your punishment for getting caught.//  
  
Youji shuddered as the memories finally drew to a close. He had been disturbed by how uncaring Ken and Omi had been; Aya he could understand, he didn't care about much. But the others? It had been a revelation. And now it had been four days since he'd returned. That was almost three times longer than the 36 hours spent in Schwarz's company. Even if the others had been concerned, they'd assume he was over it by now.  
  
And even though he wasn't, Youji felt the need to play along with it. He pretended everything was okay. He played if off beautifully during the day. But during the long, dark hours of night, he couldn't stop the memories. And the reality became glaringly obvious. He wasn't okay.  
  
To Be Continued in Chapter One. 


	2. Chapter One

Stimulus  
  
Written by Eternity's End, edited by Felicity Honenburg. A/N: This fic was extremely difficult to write; much time and effort has been poured into it. The tenses may be confusing, as the fic progresses from memory to reality. Please review; I look for your honest opinion, in the hopes that it will improve me as a writer. This is my first yaoi. Please tell me what you think.  
  
I really appreciate everyone's reviews. I've never had such an immediate positive response! THANKYOU!  
  
//This is a memory or dream sequence.// 'This is thought.'  
  
  
  
Warnings: This fic will contain yaoi, meaning m/m relations. (Yay!)  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz. Regrettably.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter One:  
  
Youji was still in the bathroom an hour later. Vaguely, he realized he should get to bed if he didn't want to arouse suspicions. Tilting his head at the weary face in the mirror, he pondered that thought. Did he want to arouse suspicions? No, he decided with little difficulty. Currently, he didn't want to arouse anything, even suspicions.  
  
For the first time in the hour he'd spent staring at himself, he noted the dried blood on his lip. Wincing slightly, he brought the cotton ball up to clean it away. Once the burning died down, he threw the cotton away and left the bathroom. He'd been in there too long.  
  
His heart pounded as he neared his room. For some reason, he dreaded reentry. It wasn't like it had happened in there, he reasoned. His room was completely secure. The entire Weiss apartment was. Why was it that as time passed, his fears grew? It made no sense. He should be recovering. He should be recovered.  
  
Pushing his door open, Youji quivered with tension. 'Stop it.' He ordered himself. 'It was just a dream.' He stepped in, shutting and locking the door silently behind him. 'God, if I'm this bad in my own room, what will happen on the next mission?' Youji shook his head. The thought was irrational. He was completely fine during the day. No one was the wiser. There was no reason that he would screw up on a mission. 'Unless Schwarz is there.' The thought screamed in his head, making its way down his body, paralyzing him with fear.  
  
"Shush. Calm down." He had to verbally coax himself into movement. "Just get to bed. Go to sleep. The dreams are over for the night." They were, he knew. Once the memories played out in full, he would usually be able to find a peaceful sleep. 'Or as peaceful as they get.' Youji thought wryly. Asuka and guilt haunting his dreams was welcome compared to Schwarz.  
  
His movements were jerky, but Youji managed to settle himself into bed. Pulling the crumpled covers up to his chest, he cuddled into his fluff of a bed. Turning his head, he inhaled. He had to cringe slightly at the smell. Sweat and fear did not mix well with silk. Turning his head back to the air, he drifted into sleep.  
  
Youji's next conscious thoughts were those of an annoyed, sleep-deprived, and rudely awakened man.  
  
"What the hell do you want!?!" he roared at his door, quite confused, as it chose to make rattling and knocking noises.  
  
"Youji, get up already!" Ken moaned on the other side. "Oh." Youji felt the need to state the obvious for the sake of his half- asleep mind. "It's Ken at the door."  
  
  
  
"Of course it's me!" Ken jiggled the doorknob violently, acting surprised when it came off in his hand. "Uh. Oops?" He giggled as the door slowly swung open, revealing Youji, sitting in bed.  
  
"Yeah. Oops." Youji covered his eyes with his hands. "Mind telling me why you're here? I'm losing precious moments of sleep."  
  
  
  
Ken was trying to fit the doorknob back into the door, muttering to himself. At Youji's voice, he looked up, momentarily bewildered. "Uh." He was preoccupied with the doorknob.  
  
"Then leave the door and go away." Youji muttered grouchily, laying down and smothering himself with a pillow.  
  
Ken stood in the doorway, thinking.  
  
"I don't hear footsteps." Youji sing-songed.  
  
"Hey! You have first shift!" Ken looked gleeful for a moment before the meaning of his words hit him. "Damn it, Youji!" The suddenly sour assassin cursed. "Get down there, you have to open in ten!"  
  
  
  
The entire time, Youji cuddled with his pillow. "Yeah. Gotcha. I'll be down in ten." Ken nodded curtly before striding down the hall.  
  
A second later he reappeared in the doorway. "Youji!" He stomped in, ripped the pillow from his face, and smacked the older man with it repeatedly. "Wake! Up! Now!" He tossed the pillow to the floor, watching as Youji struggled to sit up.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. I'm up." He touched his lip numbly. "Little excessive, don't you think?" He asked Ken, waving his now bloody fingers in front of him.  
  
"Oh! Youji," Ken looked properly contrite upon sight of the reopened wound. "I'm sorry." He watched the elder man swing his legs around, out of the bed. "You okay?" He asked, noting the dark rings under his eyes for the first time.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah. Dandy." Youji stood, looking grim and forcing Ken to scramble out of the way of his haggard steps. "I'll see you down there in a few. Just got to get cleaned up."  
  
  
  
Ken nodded dumbly, not recognizing the bleeding man before him. He moved for the door. "You sure you're okay?" He asked with a little concern. Normally, Youji looked pristine upon waking. 'Wonder what happened.' His thoughts trailed off.  
  
"I said I was fine, didn't I?" Youji answered with a question.  
  
"Okay." Ken shrugged, leaving the man to attempt privacy with a broken door.  
  
Youji appeared in the flower shop fifteen minutes later. Ken did not look pleased. Any sympathies he had had for his teammate's mysterious troubles were gone.  
  
"You're late." Ken grumbled. "I had to open."  
  
  
  
"So you can have the opening salary. I don't mind." Ken snorted at the comment. The florist's salary, even the opening one, was peanuts compared to the assassin's.  
  
"Well, I do! You have got to start taking responsibility for yourself." Ken was clucking like a mother hen. "I'm not your mother." Youji snorted.  
  
"Thank God for that." Ken just sighed.  
  
The rest of the morning passed with Ken's chastising and Youji's smart retorts. Around two, Aya entered the shop, relieving Ken. Ken left all too willingly, scrambling up the stairs to the apartment to change for his little league's game.  
  
The shop fell into uncomfortable silence. "So, where were you?" Youji attempted to strike up a conversation.  
  
"Hospital. Library." Aya replied shortly.  
  
"Have fun?" Youji asked with a tense smile. Aya just glanced over at him.  
  
"You were up late." Aya informed Youji. Youji paled slightly. "You were sick?" He asked. Youji almost bit his lip, stopping when he remembered the scab there.  
  
"Just something I ate." Youji played it off as coolly as possible. Aya threw him another glance, then strode off to the back to catalogue supplies.  
  
Youji let out a sigh of relief, moving to sit behind the cash register. Bored, he picked up a piece of wire left out from an earlier arrangement. Unconsciously, he began looping and braiding it, creating a loose series of knots.  
  
The bell tinkled, announcing a customer. Youji looked up, continuing his senseless rhythm. "Hello!" Youji cheerfully greeted the middle aged woman. "Can I help you with finding anything?" The woman shook her head, browsing through a case of bouquets. Youji shrugged, looking down at his neat little pattern.  
  
He paled at the sight.  
  
//Rough little hoops of wire. Hundreds of them. Possibly thousands. Rough little hoops, strung, piercing through the uppermost layers of his skin.//  
  
Youji stumbled backwards, clutching his chest, caught in the memory.  
  
//First the skin is pinched, it pulls up loosely, away from his body. Then the pointy part of the hoop slips through the flesh. Finally, the pointy end links with the hooked end. It happens over and over again, forming hundreds of convenient handholds.//  
  
"God." Youji knocked the stool over with his movement. The wire chain of hoops is clutched in his hand. Youji looks up to see a woman watching him, horrified. She drops her flowers, backing slowly from the shop. "Help." Youji's voice is low and ragged. Drops of blood are flowing from where the wire bites flesh.  
  
//Wire. His wire. Turned against him. The tiny hoops, one by one, jerked off of his body. Tearing straight through his flesh. Blood burning him as it oozes up, dripping from his body.//  
  
Youji awakened to reality slowly. His face was pale and his fingers sticky. He dropped the wire to the floor and surveyed his surroundings. "It.it was so real." He looks to his hand again, then stares down at his chest.  
  
He could almost see the tiny slits, littering his body. He remembered them so well. He'd received them in the time before the dream, in the time when his body had been so taken with that drug. He shuddered; another memory. Surely it would be added to the dream. Another thing to relive during the night.  
  
Carefully, Youji wound part of his wrist bandage around his hand. He mopped up the blood that had dribbled on the floor with one of his sleeves. They were too long, the deepest of blacks; they absorbed the blood and hid it, save a bit of dampness. Mere seconds later, Aya comes out from the back.  
  
"I thought you had a customer." He said as he moved by. "Gone already?" Youji nodded dumbly. "Buy anything." Youji shakes his head. Aya noticed the flowers dropped in the middle of an isle. Youji held his breath, waiting to hear the accusation that he scared away a customer. It didn't come. Instead, Youji heard Aya mutter something about inconsiderate customers and watched as he picked them up, dropping the ruined bouquet in the trash.  
  
"You're quiet." Aya turned to Youji suspiciously. When had Youji ever been quieter than him? He saw the stool, still turned over behind Youji, and raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"  
  
  
  
"N..nothing." Youji cursed his voice for stuttering. Especially when he was under Aya's suspicious eyes.  
  
Aya's eyebrow dropped. "Sure." He turns away from him, having lost interest. Five minutes later, Omi appeared in front of the shop, flushed from a race to beat the flowershop fan girls. It is Youji's signal to leave. He does so, challenging the speed of Ken's exit and beating it.  
  
A/N: I wanted to get this out as fast as possible. Don't expect it to happen often. I don't get many chances to write and post. Originally I had bigger plans for this chapter, but found that more development was needed. Please review. 


	3. Chapter Two

Stimulus  
  
Written by Eternity's End, edited by Felicity Honenburg. A/N: This fic was extremely difficult to write; much time and effort has been poured into it. The tenses may be confusing, as the fic progresses from memory to reality. Please review; I look for your honest opinion, in the hopes that it will improve me as a writer. This is my first yaoi. Please tell me what you think.  
  
I really appreciate everyone's reviews. I've never had such an immediate positive response! THANKYOU!  
  
//This is a memory or dream sequence.// 'This is thought.'  
  
  
  
  
  
Warnings: This fic will contain yaoi, meaning m/m relations. (Yay!)  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz. Regrettably.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Two:  
  
Youji scurried up the stairs, desperate to return to the solace of his room. But upon reaching his destination, he was swarmed with an entirely new set of memories, memories which affected him on an entirely different level.  
  
//'Now let's see.' The foreign thoughts march around his head, poking and prodding in places Youji had long forgotten. 'Oooh.' The German's pleasure echoes inside his head; a feeling infinitely worse than simply hearing it with his ears. 'Someone's been a bad little kitty cat, hasn't he?' 'Stop. Stop. Get out. Stop.' The German chuckles inwardly, causing Youji to wail in response. The sound stops in his throat, but Schuldig can hear it nonetheless. He seems to relish the sound. The chuckling only gets louder. 'Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.' 'Oh, but kitten, I'm having so much fun.' 'No. Not fun. Pain. Stop. Stop.' A gurgling noise escapes Youji's lips. The orange haired man in front of him frowns, opening his jaw to let the bile flow out. 'Shh. Calm down, kit. We don't want you dying, now do we?' The drool that had been choking him drips down his dry lips, off of his chin to pool on the floor. 'Come now, kitten, let me inside again.' And the probing begins once more.//  
  
Youji whimpered aloud, startling himself out of his reverie. With a look around the room, he reassured himself that he was safe. They were just bad memories.  
  
Looking around the room, Youji became aware of the broken door handle. Now having a task to focus on, the memory left his mind, leaving him to his work. But the task was completed all to quickly, and with it ended his momentary relief.  
  
//'Oh, kitten. How awful. How could you let that happen.' The voice tuts inside his mind. 'Your parents, Asuka, and oooh, how about this?' Memories push forward, one by one, to be viewed by Youji as he writhes in his bonds. All the while, Schuldig's voice provides a sadistic commentary in the background. 'Stop. Please. Stop. I'll do anything. Stop. Make it stop!' He wails inwardly, and Schuldig smiles. 'Really,kitten? Anything? Would you be willing to do this?' Another memory pushes forward, into his line of mental vision. Youji's thoughts blank in horror. He is being exposed to another's thoughts.//  
  
Youji searched the room for something else to do. Something that would get his mind off of these things, without making him leave the relative safety of his asylum. He came up empty-handed as the next wave of thoughts rode in.  
  
//'How'd you like it, kitten? Now, do you understand? Why they call me Schuldig; why I am guilty?' He laughs, but the sound is different from before. It is a sound derived from pain, bitterness, and sadness. Not a sound of pleasure. 'Would you like to see more? Or should I stop? You said you'd do anything, anything to make it stop. Are you willing to do it? Willing to do what I did, if it grants you that bit of freedom?' 'No. No. Stop. Stop. Not anything. Something, but not anything. Make it stop.' The bitter laughing is replaced once more with that chuckle of pleasure. Youji writhes in his bonds, the bile from his stomach dribbling down his chin.//  
  
Youji turned to the door, fumbling to open it, to free himself from his new cage. He nearly breaks the knob again in his rushed efforts. 'Damn it, damn it. Not alone. Not now. I don't want to be alone. People. I'm going to find people. Damn it, where is everyone?' Youji frantically searched each room; no one was to be found. Struggling to breathe, he headed for the stairs. There would be people in the shop; of that he was fairly certain.  
  
'Calm down, Youji. Don't arouse suspicions. It's fine. It's daylight. Nothing will happen to you in the daylight.' Youji coached himself as he made his way down the stairs. 'Daylight? Nothing will happen to you in daylight? Bullshit! The memories come anytime now. Day, night. They don't care! You can't stop them anymore. You can't pretend. You need help. Face it. You need help.' One side of his mind fought vainly with another. By the time he had reached the bottom of the stairs, he held the semblance of control.  
  
Stepping into the shop, he was surprised to find Aya the only occupant. "People? Where are they?" Youji realized how desperate he sounded only after the words had escaped his mouth.  
  
"People?" Aya raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you talking about, Youji? We closed. It's after five." Youji blinked a few more times before calming slightly.  
  
"Omi? Ken? Where are they?" Youji was proud to note he sounded a little more in control this time.  
  
"Omi's getting takeout. California rolls for you. Ken's on his way from a soccer game." Youji nodded slightly, reassured that he would soon be accompanied by not only one but three people.  
  
"You're acting weird." It was Aya's way of asking if you were all right.  
  
"I." Youji almost considered opening up to the redhead. But by the time he'd made a decision, Aya had turned away, and Ken had entered through the back.  
  
"Where's the food?" Ken panted, having run home from the game. He looked around the shop hopefully. "I'm hungry; where's the food?" he repeated.  
  
"Omi's getting take out. Sashimi." Ken smiled, nodding his gratitude before jogging up the stairs to shower before eating.  
  
Youji watched him go, noticing he'd been completely ignored. "Uh," he said dumbly. Aya looked over at him, waiting for him to continue the non- thought. "Never mind," Youji barely whispered, moving to light up a cigarette. Only then did he notice he was shaking. 'Why the hell am I shaking?' Youji wondered. He couldn't place a reason. 'God. This is really getting to me.'  
  
  
  
Aya had raised an eyebrow at Youji's shaking hands, but other than that, he was ignored.  
  
"Home!" Omi called out from the back, automatically heading for the stairs to set up in the kitchen. "Dinner's here!" he yelled further.  
  
"We're right here! You don't have to yell," came Ken's scream from the top of the stairs. Aya raised an eyebrow, and Youji was almost tempted to smile.  
  
"Then come eat!" Omi yelled again, on his way to the kitchen, followed by Aya and Youji. When they got there, Ken was already sitting at the table.  
  
Dinner went by with little conversation. All was silent except for Omi's questions and Ken's muttered responses. No one seemed to notice that the usually talkative Youji was simply pushing his sushi around the plate, and certainly nobody noticed that Aya was silent.  
  
The meal ended similarly. Ken stood up, loudly praising the meal. Then Omi stood up to leave, thanking the group, for what they couldn't be sure. Finally, Youji stood only to be stopped by Aya's firm grasp on his too loose shirt.  
  
"What?" Youji snapped, annoyed. Aya just raised an eyebrow as the others walked out, ignoring the pair's hatching squabble.  
  
"What exactly do you think you're doing?" Aya asked in a low, near threatening tone as soon as the others were out of hearing.  
  
"What?" Youji asked, genuinely confused.  
  
"You didn't eat." Aya released his sleeve and pointed to the chopped up food on his plate. "You're going to worry the others."  
  
  
  
"Is that all?" Youji returned to his defiant, annoyed tone, momentarily taking up his former attitude. But it didn't last long; his will gave out, and he began to edge towards the door.  
  
"No, that's not all." Aya sounded grumpy. He didn't like being forced to mother them. He only did it when necessary. "You're not eating. You're going to die if you don't. Why aren't you eating?"  
  
  
  
Youji paused in his inching. His voice was edged ever so slightly with hope. "You noticed?" It was a stupid question. Of course he had noticed if he was commenting on it. Aya's eyebrow twitched and he grumbled quietly. "I mean." Youji scrambled for the proper response. "I just wasn't hungry?" The comment was meant to be a statement. It came out as a half-hearted excuse, a question.  
  
"You haven't been hungry for the past few days?" Aya was practically growling. "How are we supposed to rely on you in a mission if just the wind can blow you over?"  
  
  
  
Aya's annoyance was catching. "I just wasn't hungry." Youji growled back. What was he supposed to say? 'I'm sorry, Aya. Its just that if I eat anything, I'll spend the rest of the night retching it up because Schwarz is haunting my dreams.' Yeah. That would go over well.  
  
Youji attempted retreat again; this time his stride was powerful, long. This time, Aya allowed him to escape.  
  
Youji made it to his room without incident. He only hoped that the rest of the night would go by as well. He was not in luck.  
  
//'Kitten, kitten, kitten. When will you learn? Something isn't an option. I'm not going to stop my fun in exchange for 'something'. I want specifics. Come now, kitten. I'm sure you can be creative.'// The memories started almost immediately upon his thoughts of hope.  
  
//'What would you give, to be let down?' Schuldig pokes his abdomen painfully. He traces each of the little cuts caused by his teammate's earlier amusements. Youji's thoughts raced, ideas of how to earn release, ideas of how to get Schuldig off of him, buzzing through his mind. Schuldig laughed, amused, for as rapidly as the thought appears, it is equally quickly rejected. 'Fine, fine, fine. No need to stress, kitten.' Schuldig chuckles happily. 'I'll tell you the answer. Don't you fret.' His hand smoothes over the taut stomach. The painfully empty stomach that was quivering with repulsion and fear. 'Nothing. There is nothing that you can do to free yourself. You're stuck, little cat. You're stuck as my playmate, indefinitely.' He pauses for a moment, his hand dipping lower than the concave stomach, tracing a painful nail over the more sensitive flesh. 'That is, unless you'd prefer I brought Crawford back in.' Youji tries to hiss, spraying the spit and bile that had gathered in his throat over the carrot top before him. "You bitch." Schuldig's hand comes up, the back of it meeting his face. "What the hell did you do that for?" He wipes the hand over his face, smoothing his hair and removing the awful liquid. To Youji, it is worth it. For momentarily, his body and more specifically his member is free from that horrible hand, free from those sharp nails. "That's it, kitten. Tomorrow. Just wait. Tomorrow, I'll make it all up to you. We're going to have some fun, kitten. And by we, I don't mean just you and myself."//  
  
The memories came to an end. Youji awakened to find himself curled in the fetal position in the middle of the floor. Shivering, he stood. He decided he didn't want to be alone.  
  
Youji next found himself in front of his teammate's bedroom door. Specifically, he came to find himself in front of Aya's door, his hand raised to knock. After a moment's hesitation, he did so.  
  
Aya took a while answering the door. When he did, the _expression with which he greeted Youji was not kind. "What do you want?" he grouched; he'd been reading and didn't wish to be disturbed.  
  
"Uh.I.You see.Ken's asleep, and Omi's busy.and I." Youji quickly tried to concoct an excuse.  
  
"I am too. Now what do you want?" Aya growled at the lanky man in front of him.  
  
"Huh?" Youji replied unintelligently.  
  
"I'm busy too, what do you want?" he asked again, his annoyance growing.  
  
"Umm.." Youji's courage failed him. "Nothing. It's stupid. Never mind." Youji's face paled and he backed away from the door.  
  
Aya began to regret his harsh tone as Youji visibly crumbled before him. "Youji, what did you want?" He asks, his tone almost soft, almost caring. Almost.  
  
"I.I'm sorry for bothering. Sorry. Bye." Youji turned, defeated; he began the short journey back to his own room. Aya's indifferent _expression fell to a frown, a near pout, as he watched his broken teammate trudge along.  
  
He wanted to reach out to him. He wanted to wrap his arms around the tall man and ask him for his thoughts. He wanted to comfort him, like he would his sister, like any normal person would want. He wanted to, but he'd be caught dead before he did.  
  
So rebelling against every instinct inside of him, brotherly and otherwise, he turned back into his room. He turned his back on his teammate, his friend, in favor of a sub-par book on swordplay. 


	4. Chapter Three

Stimulus  
  
Written by Eternity's End, edited by Felicity Honenburg. A/N: This fic was extremely difficult to write; much time and effort has been poured into it. The tenses may be confusing, as the fic progresses from memory to reality. Please review; I look for your honest opinion, in the hopes that it will improve me as a writer. This is my first yaoi. Please tell me what you think.  
  
I really appreciate everyone's reviews. I've never had such an immediate positive response! THANKYOU!  
  
//This is a memory or dream sequence.// 'This is thought.'  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Warnings: This fic will contain yaoi, meaning m/m relations. (Yay!)  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz. Regrettably.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Three:  
  
Aya felt ill, and it wasn't because he was sick. No, Aya rarely got sick. This was more of a disgusting bile, churning in his stomach, intent on punishing him for his actions.  
  
And it wasn't that self-loathing was an unusual feeling for him. His opinion of himself was rarely high. But still, this feeling persisted, unique, taunting him. He didn't know why.  
  
Or rather, he did know why. He just refused to acknowledge it.  
  
It was because of this sick feeling that he was headed towards the bathroom. He was by no means headed to check up on Youji. It was just convenient that Youji's room was on the way to the bathroom.  
  
He did not care about Youji.  
  
It didn't concern him.  
  
At all.  
  
At least, that's what he told himself.  
  
So Aya found himself trudging down the hall, at a pace unusually slow compared to his typical determined stride. And he found himself straining his hearing, unconsciously intent on knowing whether Youji was still up.  
  
  
  
'Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.' Youji was plastered against his door, silently chastising himself for his move. 'Why'd you go and do that? Idiot! They don't care. You know that. Why'd you go looking for pity? Huh? Did you think that he'd comfort you? Did you think that he'd open his arms and tell you everything was all right? Really! He doesn't care. None of them do. You discovered that right after you got back, didn't you? Really, Youji. You're a glutton for punishment.' As Youji broke away from one chain of thoughts, another, more destructive string weaned its way in. 'Stupid, what are you sitting around miserable for? Are you waiting for them to save you? Weakling! You just want sympathy. You're just looking for pity. My God! Look what you've done to yourself. You're worth nothing! At least before, you had your looks. But what are you now? What are you, honestly, without sex? Nothing. You're just drawing out the inevitable. How much longer do you think you can last?' Youji vaguely recognized some of these words. Something from the dreams was seeping through, melding itself with his conscious, no longer content to dominate only reveries. Every small doubt he'd had was being multiplied.  
  
"Stop it!" The scream broke him away. Youji looked around for the source, trying to find the one who had come to save him.  
  
There was no one there. It took another few minutes for Youji to realize that he had been the source of the noise.  
  
He was alone. He was safe. Things were going to be fine. Youji relaxed against the door. Things would be fine. He was back in his old mindset. Things were definitely looking up.  
  
'Oh, where's the fun in that?' A voice came in his head. Unlike the previous voices, this one was not of his own creation. No, this one had a definite accent. This one had an identifiable tone. He knew this intrusion all to well.  
  
"Where are you?" Youji asked, suddenly desperate. He stood, stepping away from the door and slowly turning to inspect his surroundings.  
  
He was still alone.  
  
'Hmm. That's a little better, but I like your first idea better.' The voice intruded again.  
  
"What are you talking about? I don't have any ideas! What do you want?" Youji called out into the room.  
  
'Oh, I think you know.' A scene unfolded in his mind, pictures concocted by a foreign imagination. A photograph of his room, his long, frail body sprawled across the wood floors. A lone wire was unraveling from a tight hold around his arm. A large tarn of blood pooled around his figure. 'I think you know, only too well.'  
  
  
  
"Get out! Get out!" Youji gasped, panic tightening around his ribs. "Leave me alone. I don't want that." He threw his arms around for emphasis. He succeeded in knocking a clutter of objects from his dresser.  
  
'You don't. You don't want it?' He sounded disappointed. He sounded a bit annoyed. But most of all, he sounded cocky. 'Tsk tsk tsk. Denial!' Youji had bent to rescue the sprawled goods. To his horror, he found himself grasping one of the fallen items.  
  
"Stop it! I don't want this! Stop!" Youji screamed in vain. His fingers were already grasped possessively about the small spool. One hand was pulling the thin, shining strand away from its ravel.  
  
'You don't want this?' Schuldig chuckled, causing Youji to shudder at the familiar feeling. 'If you don't want it, then don't do it. I'm not forcing you.' Youji gasped, increasing Schuldig's amusement.  
  
"No. I wouldn't do this. I don't want to do this!" Youji barked out, his eyes widening as the wire wrapped its way around his upper arm. 'Fine. Fine. Fine. Blame it on me if you must.' Schuldig shook his head from his undisclosed location. Internally, Youji felt the gesture like it was his own. 'Just don't get carried away.' He hissed. 'We don't want you dead next time we come to play. We're not necrophiliacs. Or, at least, I'm not.'  
  
  
  
Schuldig's voice faded, just as Youji tightened the wire. By the time his presence had faded completely from his mind, blood was oozing out of the new slits, pouring down his arms, and absorbing in the material of his torn shirt.  
  
"Shit, Youji," he muttered quietly. "Look what you're doing to yourself."  
  
  
  
  
  
Aya had paused outside of Youji's door when he heard noise. Straining his hearing, he could hear Youji talking to himself.  
  
"Stop it," he whispered; his voice was strained. Almost a hushed scream. "Where are you?" The whisper this time was panicked. Was Youji on the phone? "What are you talking about? I don't have any ideas! What do you want?" No, he wasn't on the phone. The phone hadn't rung, and he wouldn't be asking that if he'd initiated the call.  
  
"Youji!" Aya raised his hand to knock on the door. He wasn't sure if he'd heard.  
  
"Get out! Get out!" Youji's voice was stronger, obviously directed at him. Nodding to himself, Aya dropped his hand. 'Whatever,' he thought, moving to continue on to the bathroom.  
  
"Leave me alone. I don't want that." Aya shook his head. 'I already left.' He mused for a moment before taking a few more steps.  
  
"Stop it! I don't want this! Stop!" By the time Youji's whispered shouts were enunciated, Aya was in the bathroom, the running water blocking out any noise.  
  
  
  
Schuldig sat back in the huge bed, a pretty smirk growing on his face. "Mmm. That was nice. That was really, really nice." Nagi sat up beside him, quirking an eyebrow. "Not that you weren't," he said with a teasing smile. Nagi smiled slightly and picked up a cigarette and a lighter, toys he'd stolen from their pet kitten.  
  
"You do good work." The barest hint of a tinge appeared on Nagi's cheeks. "Bet he thinks he's out of control." Schuldig chuckled again and Nagi's shoulders drooped. He was complimenting his performance with Youji. "You sure he'll live?"  
  
  
  
"Not to worry. I just broke a few veins. No arteries or anything," Nagi responded, lighting up the cigarette. Schuldig chuckled, wrapping an arm around the slim boy's waist, pulling him towards him.  
  
"You do really good work," he confessed, referring to another form of performance. Nagi blushed. Schuldig moaned. He was definitely satisfied, mind and body.  
  
  
  
To Be Continued.  
  
Author's Note: I know this one was pretty short, but I'm so busy. I don't have time to write. And this chapter did not want to come. I think my imaginary muse died. In case anyone was wondering, Youji only thought he was screaming. ^ ^ Ja! 


	5. Chapter Four

Stimulus  
  
Written by Eternity's End, edited by Felicity Honenburg. A/N: This fic was extremely difficult to write; much time and effort has been poured into it. The tenses may be confusing, as the fic progresses from memory to reality. Please review; I look for your honest opinion, in the hopes that it will improve me as a writer. This is my first yaoi. Please tell me what you think.  
  
I really appreciate everyone's reviews. I've never had such an immediate positive response! THANKYOU!  
  
//This is a memory or dream sequence.// 'This is thought.'  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Warnings: This fic will contain yaoi, meaning m/m relations. (Yay!)  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz. Regrettably.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Four:  
  
"Mmm." Schuldig woke with a moan, stretching languidly. He was immediately met with bright, alert eyes. "Morning, Nag," he whispered, his throat scratchy from sleep.  
  
"I'm not a nag," the boy whispered back, blowing minty breath straight into Schuldig's face. Obviously, the boy had been up for a while if he'd had a chance to brush his teeth.  
  
"You got up before me," Schuldig protested, stifling a yawn. He numbly scratched at his naked stomach.  
  
"You were tired. I had some things to do," Nagi excused himself. Schuldig quirked an eyebrow at him.  
  
"Does that mean you made me breakfast?" His voice was returning to normal from use. Nagi confused for a second, shaking his head inarticulately.  
  
"Why would I make you breakfast?" he wondered aloud.  
  
"Because I was a good boy last night," Schuldig murmured huskily. "And I'll be a good boy again if you make me breakfast." He trailed off, his eyebrows lowered suggestively.  
  
"I'm not making you breakfast," Nagi muttered, sitting up. For the first time Schuldig noticed he was naked while his partner was fully dressed.  
  
"You're no fun at all." Nagi blew hair out of his face, a bland look resting on his features. Schuldig, unable to bear that familiar look, pulled the boy down into a hard kiss. Nagi followed willingly. "Make me breakfast," he whispered, blowing a mixture of stagnant alcohol, smoke, and unmentionable substances into the boy's face as a hand slowly trailed down his uniform's blazer.  
  
Nagi wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I'll make you breakfast," he surrendered. "As long as you brush your teeth and never blow morning breath in my face again," he grumbled.  
  
Schuldig nodded, content that he'd won this battle, apathetic that his pride might have been insulted in the fight. "French toast!" he called in an afterthought. Nagi made some replay, but Schuldig paid it no heed.  
  
  
  
Youji sat huddled in the corner of his room, the dried blood on his arms cracking as he moved a cigarette to his lips. He hadn't moved since last night, save to snatch at a lighter and pack. He hadn't moved, nor had he slept, nor made any move to clean up the mess.  
  
"I can't believe I did that." His voice was hoarse. He was moments away from breaking into tears, as he had been all night. "I didn't want to do that." He tried to convince himself, but succeeded only in weakening his flimsy resolve.  
  
Last night had been bad. His body betrayed him. His mind was too far gone. Youji could no longer be certain which desires were his own and which had been placed there by a foreign will. Foreign in more ways than one, Youji shuddered at the thought of his thick German inside his head. Youji didn't always understand what was being said to him. He was more than hesitant to look it up.  
  
"Alright, Youji," he told himself aloud; he could no longer be certain his thought orders were of his own making. "Time to rise and shine. Don't want all those beauties waiting." He used to be able to say it a lot more credibly. At the moment, he didn't mind having beauty and opportunities pass him by. He felt safer huddled here on the floor. Safer with his upper arms sticking to the dark paint of the wall, sealed there with his own blood. "Up and at them. Don't keep the ladies waiting." His voice cracked as he said it, a sob he'd been containing all night broke through. It was nothing, he told himself. He was safe in the daylight. Well, he had believed that until recently.  
  
Aya stared at the clock of the flower shop. He was irked that Youji would show up so late. He was almost tempted to go up and wake the playboy himself. Lord knows, he'd done it before. On more than one occasion he had blown through the door, scaring Youji and whatever bed partner he'd had out of bed. He could do it again without hesitation.  
  
But this time was different. Aya wouldn't barge in on a sleeping Youji. He had reasons to let sleeping playboys lie. Perhaps it was guilt that let the man sleep. Perhaps it was indifference that made him leave him be.  
  
But Aya suspected it was something different that kept him from Youji's door. It was the intense paranoia that something had happened when he'd sent Youji away. Intense paranoia that he'd broken Youji apart with a few misplaced words.  
  
Whatever it was, Youji'd been different. He didn't look healthy enough to be torn from whatever sleep he managed. Youji wasn't feeling well, and Aya wouldn't push him until he felt better. 'We can't risk him sick on a mission,' Aya concluded with himself. That was why he didn't interrupt the man's sleep for work. Besides, Aya was more than capable of handling a few flowers by himself.  
  
When Youji stumbled down the stairs later that morning, Aya let out a rush of breath he was unaware he'd been holding. He was relieved to see Youji half falling down the steps, standing tall, still in one piece. Sure, he looked like his hair had had a fight with a mixer. Sure, the circles under his eyes were deep gouges in a once beautiful face. But Youji looked like himself. More so than he had last night.  
  
"Murn," Youji mumbled out, too weary to even mumble a longer, proper greeting. He was depressed. He'd wrapped his wounds, applied concealer to the shallow bruises of fatigue, and dressed relatively nicely. He'd tried hard to make himself look like he used to. No matter what he did, he looked pathetic. It hurt to see himself like this.  
  
"You're late," Aya snapped out in irritation. He didn't know where the pity'd gone, where the suspicions on Youji's health had fled to, but apparently it was far from him. He would respond automatically. He couldn't put to practice any sort of kindness.  
  
"I.shower.clean.done.work," Youji mumbled for a few minutes, Aya only catching every fourth or fifth word. "Sorry," he apologized again, sounding desperately weak, much like he had last night. Aya couldn't look at him.  
  
'Its okay.' Aya forgave. Or rather, he meant to. He wanted to. But the cold exterior translated the words to a different text. The 'it's okay' that he'd wanted to say came out as a snappish, 'Don't do it again. I'm sick of this shit you try to pull.' He hissed, turning back to see the taller man. He was surprised to find himself the taller of the pair. Youji was so hunched, so curled in on himself, that the few inches he held over Aya were non-existent.  
  
"." Youji mumbled a few apologies, none of which Aya pushed himself to hear. He was sick of this new Youji and all of his apologies. He was sick of feeling like such a brute because the once vain playboy was practically cowering at his feet.  
  
"Youji. What's wrong?" Aya asked, surprisingly kindly. "If you need to talk." He trailed off, realizing that talking was not something he wanted to subject himself to. 'I could find you a nice psychologist?' he thought to himself. 'I'll tell Omi to talk with you when he gets home?' None of his ideas seemed to fit as ending to his rushed statement. 'Better to just let it be.' He decided, pretending the words had never crossed his mind, let alone his mouth.  
  
"I." Youji's lips trembled, Aya noticed. His lips trembled, as if concealing a sob he'd never expect from the strong womanizer. Seeing the weak gesture only made him more aware of the faded bruises, the hollow cheeks, and the circles of fatigue. The incessant shivering of his mouth only made him more aware of the raw, repellant split in his lip. 'Why hasn't that healed?' Aya wondered.  
  
Youji worried the lip with his teeth, as if in answer to his question. Blood began to flow just as the bell tinkled, alerting the florists to a customer. Aya stared, transfixed at the large amount of blood that spilled forth from what he thought was a shallow wound. "We'll be right with you," Aya muttered to the elderly woman perusing a display. "You're bleeding," he hissed at Youji, who fingered the split thoughtfully, shrugging it away.  
  
"I'll fix it later," he murmured, moving forward, wiping his now blood- soaked hand on his pants. He hadn't even bothered with an apron. Aya was disturbed. Of the four of them, Youji was always the most concerned about his appearance.  
  
"You'll fix it now," Aya hissed, moving to push Youji to the bathroom. Youji resisted his touch, shying away and towards the customer. "You'll scare away the customers if you go bleeding all over the flowers." Aya wondered why he was even bothering to explain himself. Youji looked so distant. He couldn't know what was being said.  
  
"Yes, yes. I'll tend the flowers, don't fret," he muttered, moving closer to the old woman. Draining his small resource of patience, Aya grabbed Youji by the arm, ripping him away towards the bathroom.  
  
As soon as he had latched his grip, he let go in shock. This was disgusting. Aya, a man not overly large in size, had managed to circle the entire bulk of Youji's upper arm; a feat he would not, should not, be capable of doing were Youji in fit condition. Youji was supposed to have the most upper arm strength of them all, needing it to support the weight of a victim when hanging them with his wire. And the gross amount of muscle loss didn't even end there. The skinny limb was even smaller than it looked, for Aya had felt the cushion of fabric.  
  
The type of cloth Weiss used to bind heavy wounds. Youji was protecting wounds that hadn't been there when he'd come home. Youji was protecting wounds that had been inflicted upon him in his own home. Someone was hurting him in their own home. Ooh, someone was going to die.  
  
"Where'd you get these!?!" Aya hissed in shock, gesturing to Youji's arm. He could not believe, he would not believe, that Ken or Omi had hurt their teammate. So how had he gotten them? "Why're you bandaged, Youji." Aya's voice was low, but not for regard for their uninformed customer.  
  
"Hmm?" Youji was holding both his arms cradled across his chest, effectively protecting the fresh wounds from contact. "These?" he asked dumbly, gesturing to his upper arms. "They were just an accident. The wire got stuck," he muttered, vaguely realizing how stupid it sounded. Aya looked ready to beat him. Aya probably ~would~ beat him, Youji realized with a shudder. He should get out of here. He should go somewhere far from here, he decided.  
  
"Yes, ~those~." Aya was tempted to rip the sleeves off of Youji's loose turtleneck, desperate to see the damage done by ~an accident~. "Youji!" The hiss was gone as Aya watched the older man edge away, discreetly preparing an escape. 'Not from me you won't,' Aya thought.  
  
The elderly woman was staring at them, fear obvious. Aya obscurely realized he must look rather threatening. She hurriedly shuffled out the door, the bell tinkling as it opened. Before the bell sounded the successful closure, Youji sprung.  
  
Out the door, onto the open sidewalk, Youji was desperate to get away from anything that posed a threat. 'Some assassin,' he thought bitterly. 'Running from one of his own teammates.' He dodged through the crowds of indifferent, possibly surprised, passerby. He ducked through breaks in traffic, jumped fences, and ran. He ran with no conscious destination in mind, only fulfilling an instinctive desire to flee.  
  
'Damn, he can run fast.' Even Aya's thoughts were gasped, as he gave chase to the runaway blonde. 'Shouldn't have confronted him like that. Shouldn't have stuck my nose in it,' he bitched to himself. 'If you'd kept your mouth shut, you'd be back at the shop, the currently ~unattended~ shop, and none the wiser.' This was exactly why Aya usually kept silent.  
  
"Shit! Where'd he go!" Aya cursed aloud, unmindful of the group of young mothers with small children sitting in the café beside him. "That fucking bastard!" Someone opened his mouth to protest his use of profanity. By that time, Aya was gone, chasing after a tall blonde that might be Youji. Luck hadn't quite left him yet.  
  
Youji dodged another truck, painfully aware of the resulting blare of horns. He was going to be hit, he thought. Not that he minded. The way he saw it, he was dead either way: truck or Aya. He chose truck. After dodging a last car, Youji decided to stick to less crowded roads. He'd prefer even the slimmest chances of living. Up, over a badly parked motorcycle, through the little girls with sidewalk chalk. Down the dirty alleyway, up the fire escape ladder. Youji didn't know what drove him to the rooftops. Surely Aya could catch him easily, he more adept at darting across the flat, gravelly surfaces. But he wouldn't turn back now. Surely not when Aya was tagging on his heels, bent on homicide.  
  
'What the hell is the thinking?' Aya wondered, more than angry at being led on the wild goose chase. He was stuck at a dead end, facing a bunch of teary-eyed little girls with chalk stained cheeks.  
  
"Did you see a man go by?" Aya asked, the girls nodding mutely. He was communicating with children, he realized when they offered no further explanation. "He was tall with blonde hair?" he asked again. "Running really fast?" The girls kept nodding. "Where did he go?" he asked. One of the braver of the children pointed to the fire escape.  
  
"Shit!" Aya cursed loudly, ignoring the children's indrawn gasps and giggles at the profanity. 'What the hell is he doing! Does he plan on jumping?' He sincerely hoped not. Not only because he didn't want Youji to commit suicide, but because he didn't want the little girls to witness such an event as well. After a calculating silence, Aya started up the fire escape. He didn't want to scare Youji, but he needed to get him down.  
  
  
  
"Brad! You said he'd be here by now!" Schuldig said, stomping his foot childishly.  
  
"You're the one who insisted we come early, not wanting to miss your ~kitten~," Brad retorted, clearly annoyed.  
  
"Don't get a stick up the ass! You're the one who's wrong!" Schuldig fought back. Nagi and Farfarello sat on the roof ledge, indifferent.  
  
"I'm not wrong! If you're in such a hurry, why don't you go meet him! I have better things to do than wait around for a ~toy~." Brad stood, anticipating their toy's arrival nonetheless.  
  
"Maybe I will!" 'Schuldig is so childish sometimes,' Brad thought in disgust. 'Am not!' came the immediate response inside his head. 'Point proven,' he thought again. Schuldig stormed off with a billowing of cloth. Nagi sighed, gaining the American's attention. 'Poor thing.' Brad pitied the boy for having such an absentminded lover. 'Am not!' came the immediate response. Chuckling to himself, Brad sat down with Farfarello and Nagi. Schuldig would be sure to bring back their prize.  
  
A/N: Finally! Sorry it took so long! Gomen if these chapters seemed drawn out. I know they are, I guess its just how I write. My huge project is over, so I can write freely again! * thousands cheer * Well, its still got ways and ways to go. * sigh * this was originally supposed to be a oneshot! OII! Oh well. Do you like the cliffhanger? I do. * sigh * Don't flame me for it, but please DO REVIEW!!! I can't emphasize it enough. My poor little ego needs big, healthy reviews to grow up big and strong. Lol.err..yeah.sleep is needed. Ja! Eternity's End 


	6. Chapter Five

Stimulus  
  
Written by Eternity's End, edited by Felicity Honenburg. A/N: This fic was extremely difficult to write; much time and effort has been poured into it. The tenses may be confusing, as the fic progresses from memory to reality. Please review; I look for your honest opinion, in the hopes that it will improve me as a writer. This is my first yaoi. Please tell me what you think.  
  
I really appreciate everyone's reviews. I've never had such an immediate positive response! THANKYOU!  
  
//This is a memory or dream sequence.// 'This is thought.'  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Warnings: This fic will contain yaoi, meaning m/m relations. (Yay!)  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz. Regrettably.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Five:  
  
Aya stood atop the wide expanse of roof, eyes sweeping back and forth for any sign of movement. 'Where the hell did he go?' he wondered, sorely tempted to call out to the man.  
  
But that wouldn't do. Youji was running ~from~ him. He was obviously afraid. Calling out in anger would only worsen the abysmal state. 'At least it would get some movement,' Aya thought, slightly bitter.  
  
"That fucking idiot." He allowed himself a quiet vent of frustrations. "What does he think he's doing?" Aya's muttering was tightly contained, but the voice still screamed of violent anger. "Which way did he go?" After a long moment of pondering, intermingled with curses on the skittish blonde, Aya decided to go straight. Youji, for the most part, wanted to put distance between them. Going straight would have been the most efficient route. 'Not that Youji is thinking clearly enough for efficiency,' Aya growled at himself. He really didn't need this. 'Why did he chose the rooftops?' he wondered, calming himself with a set question. 'He knows I'm better at roof hopping.' He trailed off, only led to one conclusion. 'Does he ~want~ to get caught?' It seemed unlikely, but it was the only thing he could think of.  
  
"Ah, fuck it!" Aya shouted in disgust, all thoughts of scaring the blonde gone. 'He isn't here anyway. I can shout all I want,' Aya growled in his head. 'Not that I shout much.' With a practiced ease, Aya started into an easy lope across the rooftops. Periodically, he'd jump the drop to the alleyways, landing carefully before running again. 'I have better things to be doing!' Youji thought he was scared. Oh, no. He'd give Youji something to be scared about.  
  
  
  
"Should never have come up here." Youji wheezed, landing a shaky foot on the next rooftop. He was in no shape, physically or otherwise, to be running, let alone jumping rooftops.  
  
'Aya'll be sure to catch me at this pace,' he worried, shuddering at the thought. He didn't know why Aya suddenly scared him, but he did nonetheless.  
  
'I want to go back down. Ground is better than air,' he whimpered to himself. But something coaxed him onward. Something he named as a fear of Aya. 'If I go down, he'll surely be waiting.' Youji's thoughts trailed off. 'But if I keep going like this, he's going to catch me!' He worried some more. He didn't take the time to notice the lack of logic in his decisions.  
  
  
  
Schuldig jumped from top to top, exhibiting amazing talent at the task. 'Why do they need to run across each one when I can do it in one jump?' he wondered. Eventually, he came to the answer. 'Guess they aren't as great as I am.' He grinned, excited about seeing his pet again.  
  
  
  
Youji stumbled once, nearly falling from the rooftops. A familiar presence was sneaking up on him. The presence unnerved him, effectively causing him to lose his footing. Youji fell, toppling over the edge of the building.  
  
  
  
'Tsk, tsk, tsk.' The voice sounded in his head. 'I just can't leave you alone for a moment, can I?' Strong arms wrapped around his torso, saving him from the long plummet. "Shh.I'm here now," he hushed, pulling him back from the edge and turning Youji around in his arms. "Did you miss me?"  
  
  
  
  
  
Youji was met with a shock of orange hair and a taut, white bandana as the shorter man held him in his arms. "Sch..Schuldig." Youji's voice was weak with fear. "Schuldig." He tried to sound a bit more secure. He knew he failed.  
  
Despite his weak voice, Youji was confident in his ability to push away. He tried. He failed in that too. "I'm glad you remember me." Schuldig only tightened his hold, pinning Youji's arms between their chests. "I'm glad." His voice was husky against his ear. Youji stiffened. Schuldig's hot breath on his ear was the equivalent of a bound restraint. Fear stiffened in his joints; Youji couldn't move.  
  
"Leh.Lehgo." Youji helplessly tried to squirm free. Even his tongue was disobeying him, leaving him unable to gather the proper syllables to say more.  
  
"I don't really want to." Schuldig's tongue lapped at the outer shell of his ear. "I ~really~ missed you." Youji wished he hadn't cleaned his ears. At least then he could've fought back with a healthy buildup of earwax.  
  
"St.stop, please?" Youji wanted to tell him to let him be. Instead, he ended up asking a polite request. Schuldig suckled the ear lobe slightly between warm lips.  
  
'Come on. You can do better than that.' Schuldig's mouth was busy. He preferred to use his mind anyway. 'Scream for me.' His tongue was abruptly shoved into the smallest cavern of his ear. 'Maybe then I'll let you go.' He giggled internally, obviously enjoying this.  
  
"I came to get you." Schuldig's tongue slipped back into its mouth. "We, all of us, wanted to have a play-date." He elaborated. "Do you want to come play? Farfarello never got to finish, you know." Each word was followed by a lick, slowly moving towards his mouth.  
  
'No!' The coherent thought broke through Youji's panic stricken mind.  
  
"Or." Schuldig offered Youji a perverted sense of hope. "Would you rather." The immediate sense of hope brought by 'or' was immediately doused. "Stay here and play, just the two of us?" His tongue had made it all the way to Youji's lips, forcing entry with no hesitation. "I really think we should put that bod to use before letting them mangle it again." Youji shuddered violently. Schuldig chuckled, holding him tight to his chest.  
  
  
  
"Damn it!" Aya swore so loudly, he thought it echoed, even in the crowded area surrounding him. He was fed up with the hunt, yet simultaneously desperate to have Youji safe. 'Where the hell has he gone?' he wondered. 'What am I going to do?'  
  
  
  
Aya was more than pissed. If Youji had gone home, Aya swore he'd commit murder, even without an order. But similarly, if he turned around now, only to find Youji's body in the obituaries a week later, he'd kill himself with guilt. So there was only one thing to do. And that was to keep looking.  
  
'If I hadn't spent so much time talking to those little brats.' he chastised himself, unconsciously thanking God Aya-chan wasn't like that. 'And if I hadn't spent so much time deciding which way to go.' Aya was as angry at himself as he was at Youji. He should never have been able to get out of his sight. With an even deeper scowl, Aya continued onward.  
  
"He better not have hurt himself again," Aya hissed at nobody. Yes, again. It hadn't taken him long to conclude the source of wounds. What else was possible when the victim was a sick and/or depressed man who hadn't interacted with people as of late? Ken wouldn't do it. Omi couldn't have. And Aya hadn't done it, either; the possibilities were limited. 'But I had a hand in it.' Aya felt the familiar guilt-complex fall into place. 'If I hadn't turned him away, none of this would have happened.'  
  
  
  
Shaking it away, Aya set his thoughts on a different path: sarcasm. 'So Youji's a masochist. That's just fabulous. That ~really~ helps the team, I'm sure.' But the forced anger that had been backing his thoughts dissipated. Aya really wished he'd kept his nose out of it. This was exactly why he always kept quiet. He didn't want to put up with this! 'Once Youji's back and either dead at my hands or safe, everything will be back to normal,' he decided. Everything would be back to normal soon.  
  
But for now, he'd allow himself to care.  
  
Schuldig's comment echoed in his head. Youji made one attempt after another to free himself, but only succeeded in either irritating or amusing Schuldig. He could never be sure which. 'Calm, kitten. Enjoy,' his voice soothed in his head. The sound only made Youji jerk away harder, wanting freedom more than anything he'd ever wanted. 'You'll be safe. Promise,' he whispered internally. Youji's eyes went wide at the words. He sincerely doubted it.  
  
"Hnnnn!" Youji tried to head butt Schuldig from himself. He succeeded only in gaining a sore forehead and a tongue farther down his throat. Involuntarily, bile rose in his throat, trying to escape from his twisted stomach.  
  
"You little shit!" Schuldig pulled away, sputtering to get the bitter taste away. "What the hell are you doing!" The promise of safety was immediately breached, a fist flying into Youji's face.  
  
A wet crack sounded as Youji tipped. His body went limp even before his skull collided with the graveled rooftop below. "Oh shit," Schuldig cursed, seeing Youji's limp form, a river of blood flowing from his ear. "I didn't do it," he muttered, jumping the huge distance to the ground and running from the scene of the crime. Brad was going to be pissed.  
  
A/N: Wow! Two chapters at one time. Sorry if they're a little short, but I just couldn't bring myself to another scene change.there were a lot of them. Sorry if they confused you. Please Read and Respond! I cherish all of your comments! * Dances around * So far, I've gotten NO FLAMES! YAY! Btw.did anyone notice HOW out of character everyone was in this chapter. Schuldig and Aya especially. JA! Eternity's End 


	7. Chapter Six

Stimulus  
  
Author: Eternity's End Editor: Felicity Honenburg. A/N: Writing this is not easy. This chapter took an especially long time to write. Please make it worth my while by reviewing. Without reviews, I lose my will to write. Despite the subtle prods from my editor (thank you, FH). The tenses may be confusing, as the fic progresses from memory to reality. This is a yaoi, although no lemon yet. Please tell me what you think.  
  
I really appreciate everyone's reviews. I've never had such an immediate positive response! THANK YOU!  
  
//This is a memory or dream sequence.// 'This is thought.'  
  
  
  
  
  
Warnings: This fic will contain yaoi, meaning m/m relations. (Yay!)  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz. Regrettably.  
  
  
  
Chapter Six:  
  
A wave of simultaneous guilt and fear washed over Aya. A normal person would have been knocked over by the intensity. The last time Aya felt something at this level, it had knocked him over. However, the huge explosion and physical damage he had sustained prior to that event may have contributed to the effect.  
  
This time, Aya thanked the powers that be that he retained his footing. The lengthy drop to the ground below was intimidating. Even to a callous bastard like himself.  
  
The sight wasn't nearly as scary as Youji, though. Nothing was.  
  
It seemed an eternity, the time between spotting the crumpled body and actually reaching it. He was so sure he was dead. So sure the skinny chest was stilled permanently. Aya was so sure he'd killed himself.  
  
But turning over the corpse released a hiss of air. Just enough to tell that Youji was alive. Aya was relieved. Just as, in a sickening way, he was relieved to note the damage to his face. He hadn't done it to himself. Youji hadn't hurt himself this time.  
  
'Then who did?' The thought occurred to him, blinding him with anger. 'Youji safe first, bastard dead second,' he decided after a short amount of time. He'd get revenge for whatever his friend had been put through. He'd get revenge for what he was being put through.  
  
"Really wish I knew what was going on," Aya hissed at Youji, straightening limbs so he could examine the damage more clearly.  
  
'Shit.' After a quick assessment and a dumbfounded moment, he recognized the early stages of shock. But the trickle of blood flowing from Youji's ear had also caught his attention. Neither boded well. Aya was all too experienced with head injuries; the signature of internal bleeding did nothing to reassure him.  
  
The split lip and rapidly forming bruise were the least of his worries. Aya was going to kill someone for this. The unnamed perpetrator, for doing this to Youji. Ken and Omi, for leaving him to deal alone. Youji, for getting into this situation. And lastly, himself, for not finding a way to avoid the situation. All of them seemed possibilities at the moment. A/N: Wow. This was the shortest thing yet *only 365 words of content *, wasn't it. But don't worry. More will come this weekend. I'm going to write a lot more tonight. I have so much planned. It would get crowded.and its just been a while since I posted. Pathetic that this bit took me so long to write, isn't it? Give me reviews. I really need the boost right now. * Huddles in corner. * Why does life always have to be so shitty? 


	8. A Distressing Update

IMPORTANT NOTICE:  
  
I am sorry to announce, that my personal computer has died. As you might expect, this is setting me back quite a bit with my writing. At the moment, I am using the family computer. Along with my computer, the disk which contains Stimulus, and more importantly, Stimulus Chapter Seven (as well as all of my essential notes) was eaten and destroyed. I am going to have to rewrite Chapter Seven (which was my favorite chapter! Noooo!) from scratch.by hand. Then type it up on this ancient piece of machinery in front of me. That is, unless my A-Drive takes pity on me and fixes itself. * Sigh * I'm going to try and get a replacement.  
  
Well.I'm sorry for the bad news, but I will keep writing. It will just take a lot longer. I am determined, even if more than a little upset.  
  
If anyone understands how to fix an A drive. Review.  
  
And review to boost my drooping esteem.  
  
* sigh *  
  
Not even Farfie could cheer me up...  
  
I really loved that chapter!  
  
~Downcast, Eternity's End 


	9. Chapter Seven at last

Stimulus Chapter Seven:  
  
Author's Notes: See disclaimers/warnings in previous chapters for information. I lost this entire chapter for the THIRD time. I'm in a depressed mood; I'm sure my writing reflects that. But at least I am writing. I can't believe I lost it twice! *sob* Review; I need it.  
  
***  
  
'How much?' Aya wondered, reluctantly pulling away from stretcher as a doctor pushed through. 'What the hell has happened?' He kept a steady gaze on Youji's unconscious form, but the growing cloud of medical personnel was making his task more difficult. 'Why does this keep happening to me?' Although he normally didn't approve of self-pity, Aya was becoming increasingly suspicious that the world had it in for him. 'It's just like last time.' His thoughts began to drift to an uncomfortable topic. 'No. Not like last time. Aya and Youji are completely different matters. Aya was a victim. Youji was a fool.'  
  
  
  
The stretcher began to move again, with Youji now pinned down securely with a series of IVs and monitors. Aya kept a firm stride, catching glimpses of waned, hollow cheeks through the flurry of lab coats.  
  
"Sir." A hand connecting with his shoulder brought Aya from his thoughts. Acting on pure reflex, he swiveled, knocking it off and catching the wrist in a painful twist. "Sir!" The voice belonging to the hand and wrist cried out in pain. Deducing that the nurse meant no harm, Aya released his grip without apology. They should know better than to sneak up on him.  
  
"Sir." The nurse, a middle-aged woman with her fair share of wrinkles and gray hair, tried again. Aya could almost appreciate how quickly she regained her resolve. Almost being if she were annoying someone else. "Sir, I need you to answer some questions." She raised her hand again before thinking the better of it. "Right this way."  
  
"I already answered questions," Aya protested, returning his gaze to Youji's stretcher. It was no longer there. Stanching an immediate swell of panic, he looked to the nurse for answers.  
  
"Your friend is being treated. If you'd just come with me." She directed him to a small cubicle, equipped with plastic chairs, desk, and an outdated computer.  
  
"Have a seat." She gestured to the flimsy seat with a weathered smile. "This will only take a moment."  
  
  
  
"Where is Youji?" Aya asked, refusing to sit without news of his teammate.  
  
"He's probably in the OR as we speak. He was in quite serious condition. Head trauma was it?" She acted like she was sitting down to tea, making light conversation as the archaic piece of machinery booted up. "Could you give me the patient's name?"  
  
  
  
Aya finally sat, common sense winning over the urge to tear through the hospital in a frenzied search. "Kudou." He watched as she pecked at the keyboard.  
  
"Youji, you said?" She looked up to receive his quick nod. "With a U, H, or nothing?" She pecked some more.  
  
"U. Born March third." Aya was fairly familiar with the necessary information. The most difficult part was remembering to give Youji's information rather than his sister's. "Has any information regarding insurance, place of employment, place of residence, family contacts, or the like been changed since the last visit?" 'She really should have better typing skills if she's a receptionist,' Aya decided, watching the intermittent clicking.  
  
"No." Although he had no way of knowing, Aya was fairly certain the interrogation would end sooner if he replied negatively.  
  
"Shall I contact Mister Kudou's family?" The woman asked. Aya floundered for a moment before righting himself.  
  
"He has family?" He momentarily lost his trademark monotone.  
  
"A Misters Hidaka, Tsukiyono, and Fujimiya are to be contacted in event of an emergency." Aya immediately felt the fool. 'Just like Youji to list us as family.'  
  
  
  
"Contact Hidaka and Tsukiyono. I'm Fujimiya." The nurse looked at him skeptically.  
  
"Proof of identity? You do realize that an emergency contact should be aware of his position as such." Aya let out a sigh, exposing his license in its neat plastic slot.  
  
"Emergency contact is different from family," Aya ground out, defending himself against her disbelieving frown.  
  
"And what exactly is your relationship to Mister Kudou?" She asked, the frown lifting in place of a look of interest.  
  
"Is that really necessary information?" Aya was becoming increasingly uncomfortable about this inquisitive woman. 'What exactly is she after?' He braced himself for any kind of indication that she was enemy.  
  
"Well, it could be helpful with the diagnosis." The tension building in his muscles eased slightly. 'Gossip.' He deducted. A real enemy would have a better lie at the ready. "Sir?" She asked, as Aya stood without a reply. "Sir, may I ask where you're going?" Aya strode out of the cubicle without a second look.  
  
He'd been away from Youji for long enough. There was no telling what had happened in that time.  
  
  
  
//'One hippopotamus, two hippopotamus,' Youji counts slow and deliberate, trying to get an idea of how much time had passed. 'Three hippopotamus, four hippopotamus.' Stripped of his watch and locked away in constant darkness, he may have been here for minutes, days, even weeks. 'Five hippopotamus, six hippopotamus.' The dank air absorbs the sudden clang as the door swings open. 'Seven hippopotamus,' He tries to ignore the angry presence standing in the doorway, involving himself in the simplest task of counting. 'Seven hippopotamus,' the nasal sound of breathing identifies his newest guest as Schuldig. 'Seven hippopotamus, eight hippopot.'  
  
  
  
"Will you shut up!" Schuldig growls out. 'Twenty-nine hours! You've been here for twenty-nine hours if it means that much to you! Now will you let me sleep?" His tone is of intense annoyance. 'And you counted seven three times,' he injects as a side note. Then the door slams again. The angry presence is gone. The smallest hint of a smile appears on Youji's face. '- amus, nine hippopotamus, ten hippopotamus, eleven.' Even in the worst of conditions, he could at least annoy his captor.//  
  
  
  
"What happened?" Ken had to call over the roar of the engine. "Do you know?" He clung to Omi as they raced through a red light and jumped a low curb. "Just because Youji's in the hospital, doesn't mean we should be too!"  
  
  
  
Omi grimaced beneath his helmet. "Sorry," he called back to the older man. "I'm just nervous. I got the voice mail, but they didn't give us anything substantial." Ken grimaced as a fly pegged him in the head with amazing force.  
  
"Slow down. Do you want me to drive?" he begged, hoping they'd make it to the hospital without calling an ambulance themselves.  
  
"No, I'm fine." Omi cut off a little girl learning to ride a bike. "I've been thinking." He cut off at the blare of a horn. "Do you think his hospitalization has anything to do with when he was away?" he finally continued when the noise subsided.  
  
"What?" Ken asked, confused. When Omi opened his mouth to repeat the question, Ken rephrased himself. "When was Youji away?" Omi took a turn with amazing speed, causing the awkward pair to shift balance.  
  
"I don't really remember, myself. But apparently he was away for a while about a week ago. My records don't lie." Ken shifted back to his normal seat, as the danger had momentarily passed.  
  
"I don't remember it, nothing big happened last week except for that one mission. Didn't Youji go out drinking immediately afterwards?" Ken asked.  
  
Omi shrugged. "I guess we could ask Aya, but we'll find the reason when we get to the hospital." They pulled to a screeching halt in front of the large glass building. "See, we got here, all in one piece!"  
  
  
  
Ken gave a weary nod before finding his proper footing on the suddenly still ground. "If you ask me," Ken confided, as the pair made their way towards the reception desk. "Aya probably got fed up with Youji and put him in here himself." Omi gave his comrade a chastising look before approaching a young woman at the desk.  
  
"We're here to see Youji Kudou." He informed her cheerily.  
  
"Youji Kudou?" The woman gave an uncertain glance to the notepad by the phone. "One moment please." She gave a weak smile, immediately paging a doctor.  
  
"He'll be right with you." The receptionist dismissed them.  
  
"I thought Youji was injured, how can he be right.." Omi cut Ken off with a poke in the ribs.  
  
"The doctor," Omi hissed, watching as a man with a splinted nose and a white lab coat approached them with a smile.  
  
"Hello, you're friends of Mister Fujimiya's?" The doctor unconsciously fingered the bandage marring his face.  
  
"Well, yeah, but we're here to see Youji." Ken worked the information over.  
  
"Oh no," Omi moaned, earning a small chuckle from the doctor.  
  
"I'd like to see all three of you together, if I could," the doctor started. "But we must first stop and retrieve Mister Fujimiya."  
  
  
  
  
  
Aya's gaze didn't shift as he started at the strong cuffs linking his hands. 'Amateurs, made them too tight.' He grimaced as he pulled his wrists apart, letting the metal dig into soft flesh beneath.  
  
"Hey, don't do that." The guard complained loudly, watching Aya fiddle with the restraints. Violet eyes raised to glare at him.  
  
"Excuse me?" Aya asked, listening for the satisfying click that told him he was free.  
  
"I said don't play with that. There's a reason you're in those, you know. What kind of sick fuck decks a doctor for giving his patient an injection?" Aya's eyes lowered back to his bonds. 'If Omi and Ken take any longer, I will not be held responsible for my actions.' He decided, keeping the bonds closed, waiting for the right moment.  
  
  
  
"I can't tell you how sorry I am!" Omi apologized profusely, Ken only somewhat contrite at his side.  
  
"He decked you?" he asked, obviously amused.  
  
"Well, I can understand how he might have misinterpreted my actions, but I assure you I only work for the benefit of my patients." The doctor was taking the entire situation in stride, meeting it with humor despite the broken cartilage centered on his face.  
  
"I'm sure he didn't mean it." Omi continued his apologies. "He's just.a bit over protective, is all." Ken snorted, earning a glare as he wasn't helping the argument.  
  
"It's quite alright, now how about we go check on our friend." The doctor slid the door open; a blue-clad guard immediately fled the scene. "What was that about?" The doctor asked, looking in to see Aya sitting calmly in his seat.  
  
"Aya!" Omi immediately rebuked the redhead. "You hit the doctor." Aya looked up from his wrists, dangling his handcuffs from two fingers.  
  
"Hey, those are good quality! You got out of them without a pick?" Ken jumped at the chance to compare skills.  
  
"Ken." Omi warned, pushing the energetic older boy into a seat. "Now doctor, how is Youji?"  
  
  
  
Any playful attitude diminished from the room as the doctor settled in to inform the anxious friends.  
  
A/N: Well, I'm in a better mood than I was in the beginning of rewriting this. I didn't get as much done as I would prefer, but I'm willing to go with this. Please tell me if you understand what I'm implying with the entire "forgotten" and "time away" thing. Review, review, review! I've been a good girl, rewriting this three times, even though I'm feeling extremely discouraged.  
  
Felicity Sez: Wow. lot of grammatical errors. ^_^ But no wonder, she wrote this in like an hour. Hey, Eternity's End dahlink, don't be depressed. This is a really good chapter! Yay Omi! And hippopotami!  
  
To be continued. 


	10. Chapter Eight

Stimulus  
  
Written by Eternity's End  
  
Edited by Felicity Honenburg  
  
Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz and any copyrighted product used or mentioned in this work of fiction belong to their respective owners.  
  
Warning: This is a work of fiction containing yaoi, meaning male/male sexual situations. (YEEHAW!)  
  
A/N: Response to last chapter was fabulous! Many thanks extended to all reviewers. It seems that almost everyone understood what I was implying to certain degrees. But for those who didn't, I shall clarify.  
  
Omi, Ken, and even Aya seem to have 'forgotten' that Youji was away. They don't even remember fixing Youji up. The reasoning behind this is that although Schuldig may prefer flaunting his work to the world, Crawford is an uptight stiff and would never agree to it. However, I don't believe Schuldig would allow all his work to be forgotten, so he's not covering his tracks as well as he might. * shrug * At least, this is how I see it.  
  
And reviewers: Yes, my mind is twisted. Yes, it gets worse. And yes, Schuldig deserves to be dipped in boiling acid for thirty-six hours straight. ^_^ Heeheehee. This fic is now shown on both Mediaminer.org and Fanfiction.net. Eventually, fan art will be displayed with this fic. (Mine, as well as any that you'd like to send to me: Ba23_98@yahoo.com ) Thank you!  
  
Chapter Eight:  
  
"Ken," Omi warned, pushing the energetic older boy into a seat. "Now doctor, how is Youji?"  
  
  
  
Any playful attitude vanished from the room as the doctor settled in to inform the anxious friends.  
  
"Well." The doctor chose his words carefully, leaving the trio to stew and further gather anxiety. "Mr. Kudou is no longer critical," the doctor started slowly. "However, he's not out of the woods yet." Aya ground his teeth together, waiting for the inevitable blow. "Although we are certain Mr. Kudou will awaken," -Omi worried his lip nervously- "we can't be sure whether or not any brain damage has resulted from the blow." Ken let out a hiss of breath as the doctor stared at his folded hands.  
  
"What kind of brain damage?" Aya inquired. He was well aware that brain damage could mean any number of things.  
  
"We can't be sure whether he has obtained any form at all," the doctor reassured them hurriedly. "From what we can tell, it should not affect him physically. Although unconscious, he still responds to basic forms of stimuli." Omi nodded encouragement while Aya debated whether they were being fed false hope.  
  
"Mentally." He ground out.  
  
"Mentally, Youji may not be the same." The familiarity was not lost on the group.  
  
"You mean Youji's going to be some kind of retard?" Ken had a way with words.  
  
The doctor shook his head quickly. "Not retardation, per se. I'm simply informing you that Youji may not remember some things or respond to stimuli as he would have before."  
  
  
  
Omi and a doubtful Ken listened with rapt attention. Meanwhile, Aya's teeth threatened to shatter from the intense pressure of clenching together.  
  
"The head wound, accumulated with the severity of Mr. Kudou's previous wounds."  
  
  
  
"What?" Omi gasped out the word, interrupting the doctor mid-sentence. "What previous wounds?" he asked more calmly, huge blue eyes filling with concern.  
  
"I thought you were aware." The doctor was as confused as they. "Although still healing, they have been treated, I assumed that you." He looked from one face to another, at last landing on Aya's as the red head prepared a response.  
  
"Youji's hurt himself. Cuts. And he had a split lip. Those are the only wounds we were aware of," Aya told the doctor in a monotone, carefully tuning out Omi and Ken's shocked inquiries as to the information.  
  
"Well, yes, he has lacerations circling both upper arms, as well as a split lip which we have stitched closed. But those were the lesser injuries." The doctor gathered his wits about him, not expecting to need to explain this particular problem. "He also has thirty two small, healing tears scattered over his torso and upper thighs; severe bruising, especially around the shoulder area; deep scarring over his wrists; as well as mutilation and anal tearing conjunctive with rape."  
  
  
  
The doctor was, once again, staring at his hands, unwilling to meet the shocked men's gaze. Rape. The word echoed in their heads, not fitting the image of their playboy friend. Youji was raped. Each responded similarly, denial, amazement, horror, and guilt all warring in their minds.  
  
"Raped?" Ken was the first to speak. "Youji raped?" He almost snorted in disbelief. "Maybe he had over-enthusiastic sex, but rape? Youji?"  
  
  
  
"We would've known! Why didn't we know? Why didn't he tell us?" Omi was quiet and horrified, asking questions no one had an answer to.  
  
"It makes sense." Aya admitted finally. "It explains why he's acted so uncharacteristically." He met the doctor's eyes, staring straight into them. "It also explains your suspicions of why he would be different." The doctor bowed his head, fingering his bandaged nose before returning his gaze.  
  
"Frankly, yes. Psychological health affects your physical health. Youji seems to be severely malnourished, and as you said, he seems to have inflicted self-injuries. His weight is far below normal for his height and body type, and his muscle mass is deteriorating at an exponential rate." His gaze passed over all three men. "I really don't see how you could have missed this, given you share such close quarters. Even after Youji awakens, I suggest he stays for further testing, as well as psychiatric counseling. We need to reevaluate whether remaining in his current environment is the best thing for Youji right now."  
  
  
  
Ken opened his mouth to protest, and Omi looked hurt. But after a stern look from their leader, each held their tongue. Funny, how the man who'd assaulted a doctor was now demanding their good behavior.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Do you really realize the consequences of your actions!" Crawford continued his rant. Schuldig had returned home moments before only to find the stoic American waiting for him, lecture prepared.  
  
"No! Why don't you tell me!" Schuldig sneered. "You should have seen it! It's your fault." He was being immature, yes, but he was incredibly nervous. The Weiss kitty's mind was undetectable to his mental radar. He was beginning to think he really had killed him.  
  
"I should not have to monitor your every move! I can't know when you're going to be so.so.spontaneous!" The German pouted as Brad offered what he considered the worst insult imaginable.  
  
"I don't need to listen to this! I didn't kill him, did I?" Despite the snide front, he really was hoping for an answer.  
  
"No, you didn't kill him." Brad pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. "He's unconscious, but now the entire cover you created is blown." Seeing the German open his mouth with an offer, the older man automatically rejected it. "No, blurring things now is useless. You couldn't be thorough while protecting our interests at the same time. One of the Weiss will, undoubtedly, come along seeking revenge shortly." Opening his eyes, he dismissed Schuldig with a nod. "Go walk Farfarello. He's quite disappointed his early excursion was cut short." With a disappointed groan, Schuldig disappeared.  
  
  
  
  
  
"How did we miss it?" Omi wondered quietly, standing vigilant over Youji's still form.  
  
"He looks scrawny," Ken remarked from his seat by the door, staring, as the width of the twin hospital bed was hardly covered.  
  
"Hn," Aya added, standing at the foot of the bed with a hand on the metal bar. "He's stable," he admitted, moving to sit in the chair opposite Ken's, closer to Youji.  
  
"We're going to have to divvy shifts." Omi attempted to break the somber silence. "I could take off from school for a while." He trailed off, not so subtly showing his reluctance to do so.  
  
"Nah. You don't have to do that, Omi." Ken fidgeted, digging dirt from under his nails. "The assistant coach can handle the kids for a while. We'll manage. It's not like he'll be here long."  
  
  
  
No one responded to the comment. Once again, the room was silent, but for the steady beeping of various monitors.  
  
A/N: Review. I realize this chapter was choppy, but I can't seem to smooth it out at all. Nine will be out soon.  
  
To be continued. 


	11. Chapter Nine

Stimulus  
  
Author: Eternity's End  
  
Editor: Felicity Honenburg  
  
Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of any of the copyrighted materials used in this work of fiction. See previous chapters for details/warnings.  
  
A/N: Thank you reviewers! I love you! *Is considering starting a "thank you" section just for reviews.but I blab too much as is.  
  
I got no fan art. * sigh * But if anyone feels kind enough to donate, let me know! At Ba23_98@yahoo.com! I was sitting at my computer, drinking my kiwi-strawberry Snapple and going through a few recent chapters to reorient myself with where we are in the story when I noticed something. There's an awful lot of subtle sexual tension between Omi and Ken. I didn't even mean to put it. Tell me if I should put some Omi/Ken or Ken/Omi in here.  
  
Also, finals are around the corner. I'm putting off studying to write this (so I expect lots of reviews!). After this chapter, it will be at least a week before I can write again. I'm sorry! And finally, I'm also writing a Schuldig x Farfarello fic titled Habituals. Despite the fact that Felicity is advising me to finish Stimulus before posting Habituals, I'd like your input. If I get enough requests (if anyone besides me likes that pairing) I'll post it every other with Stimulus. * Shrug * I've talked for TOO long.  
  
  
  
Chapter Nine:  
  
Monitors clattered, the loosely treaded wheels squealing noisily as a nurse pushed them out of the room. Aya paid silent vigil to the procedure, a harsh scowl marring his brow, as if offended by the sound.  
  
Although he no longer needed the careful watch of machinery, Youji slept on. The doctors were saying it was only a matter of time before he awoke. He was healing nicely; the rest was good for him.  
  
And Aya simply sat there, seemingly oblivious, the scowl implanted on his features. To put it plainly, he was at a loss. No matter how hard he thought, he could not remember the "missing" episode Omi had told him about. And he didn't know why.  
  
'He was gone.' His thoughts went around in circles. 'For two days. We closed shop early. A week ago?' He had gone over the records several times, but things didn't add up. 'A mission. He just disappears. That would be when he was hurt.' Logic pointed one way, but his memory pointed another. And not just him, both Omi and Ken had no recollection. 'We were cautious around him. For a reason we should know.' Something was wrong. Had their memories been tampered with? 'We knew, but forgot?' Solutions circled in his head. 'He disappeared, was beaten and raped, and we didn't notice?' Things were just out of his reach. 'Kritiker can wipe a past, but why would they?' Despite his distrust of his employers, he doubted they would. 'Can they wipe such a small time period?' He had no way of knowing. Extensive thought brought about the fuzzy image of a small red ribbon, but further attention to the matter gave him a painful headache.  
  
"Mr. Fujimiya?" The doctor walked in to the room without knocking.  
  
"Hn?" Aya narrowed his eyes. Although he'd gained some respect for the man after decking him, Aya was far from trusting the physician.  
  
"I was about to check on my patient, visiting hours are over." The doctor, too, had gained an amount of respect for the redhead. That is, after a grueling investigation as to whether he, or one of his fellow florists, was the rapist.  
  
"Fine." The redhead exited the room with a swift stride. He was late for his shift anyway. Ken was going to be mad.  
  
  
  
"Where were y." Ken's rant was cut short as he was slapped in the face with a bouquet of flowers.  
  
"Were you visiting Youji? Is there any news? Did you change the flowers on his sill? I want them to be there in case no one's there when he wakes up. Can't have him thinking we abandoned him, now can we? Oh, maybe we should write a note to leave on his pillow? But then those nosy nurses would read it and get the wrong idea. Not that they don't already. I swear, Aya, they think you and Youji are an item. They obviously don't know Youji very well. Those are nice shoes. Did you change your shoelaces?" Aya scowled, speechless, as Omi bounced around the flower shop, spewing anything and everything that came into his head.  
  
"Never. Let. Him. Have. Coffee." After throwing a death glare at Ken, he growled out the five words and escaped to the back of the shop.  
  
Ken pouted guiltily, reminding himself to hide the bag of grounds before Omi went upstairs.  
  
  
  
  
  
"And God said unto him." Schuldig snickered as Farfarello clutched his ears, rocking back and forth, whimpering disjointedly.  
  
"Schuldig!" Nagi stepped up to the open cell door. "You shouldn't tease him like that!" Schuldig disentangled himself from his comfortable sprawl on the padded floor, setting the Bible down just out of disturbed Irishman's reach.  
  
"I'm not teasing him! I'm enlightening him." He smiled innocently, standing up before toeing the richly bound book closer to the madman straining against his bonds.  
  
"It's not good for him." Nagi took pity on the older boy, mentally shoving the book within reach. "He's bad enough without your help." Farfarello snatched up the book, shredding it within seconds, using both nails and teeth. "Go see Crawford. He's in the office." Schuldig gave a disgruntled sigh, having been enjoying the show.  
  
"Fine, fine. I'm going. You're such a pushover! I have to do this to him, to make up for you being such a pussy!" The German disappeared from the room, leaving Nagi being scrutinized by one golden eye.  
  
"Pussy is vulgar." Farfarello announced after an awkward silence. "Vulgarity hurts God."  
  
  
  
Nagi left, locking the door behind him.  
  
Schuldig approached the dark office with growing trepidation. Brad had been upset about the kitten's condition. 'But,' the German defended himself, 'if the kitten had been taking better care of himself, none of this would have happened. It's Crawford's job to plan these things out. Not mine.' Nodding to himself, satisfied with his argument, the redhead entered the room.  
  
"It wasn't my fault! I already told you," he whined immediately upon laying eyes on the American, sprawled across his desk chair.  
  
"I understand that," Crawford admitted, not bothering to sit properly, loosely gesturing to the chair opposite him. "I wanted to talk to you." The German took his seat, carefully positioning himself to mimic the elder man.  
  
The pair sat in silence for a moment, one trying to read the other, the other waiting for the one to speak.  
  
"What did you want?" Schuldig admonished, wasting his meager patience.  
  
"You didn't complete your assignment." Crawford started steepling his fingers awkwardly with his slumped posture. Schuldig shifted, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.  
  
"I wiped the cats of Weiss," he muttered.  
  
"Everything?" The American raised an eyebrow, disbelieving.  
  
"Yes, everything!" Schuldig hissed, steepling his fingers in mockery of Brad.  
  
"Then tell me," Crawford was drawing this out, searching for the hint of guilt or unease that signaled a lie. "Why do the so called 'Cats of Weiss' come seeking vengeance?"  
  
  
  
Schuldig snorted loudly. "You're the oracle, don't ask me." A typical response, but Brad wasn't satisfied.  
  
"Wipe your 'Kitten', too." He ordered. "Further play with the assassin would be detrimental to the team. You are dismissed."  
  
  
  
Schuldig opened his mouth to protest, but noting the American's glance to the semi-automatic handgun on the desk, wisely kept silent.  
  
"You are dismissed." Acknowledging the order the second time, Schuldig stood, leaving the room to complain to Nagi.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Feel.shit.ton of bricks.bitch of.headache.somebody.cold drink." Callused fingers rubbed at throbbing temples. "What did I do last nigh." Cat green eyes opened to stare wonderingly at the unfamiliar surroundings before them. "What did I do last night?"  
  
  
  
A/N: I wanted to get this out tonight. * Sigh * I didn't get as much done this chapter as I'd have liked, but then, that's nothing new. I promised Youji'd wake up this chapter, and well, I kept my promise. Even if its only a small paragraph. * shrug * Finals suck. I wish I could turn this in for my English piece. * giggle * My middle-aged, male, ass-of-a-teacher would love it. I'm sure. 


	12. Chapter Ten

~~This is the unedited version. The edited one will be updated shortly.~~  
  
A/N: This author is officially dead. School life, home life, and social life (Yes, I do have one, or at least, I'm deluding myself into believing I do.), as well as a host of medical problems (anyone ever heard of compartment syndrome? I hadn't until today) have been taking me away from my writing. So, sorry this took so long. I did do beautifully on my final exams! Now that I've used up all my procrastinating excuses, here's Stimulus, Chapter Ten.  
  
Chapter Ten:  
  
"He's awake!" Omi squealed down the hall, screeching to a halt in front of Ken's door. "He's awake, he's awake, he's awake!" He banged happily for a moment before moving on to Aya's.  
  
"I told you he'd." The door swung open just as Omi's fist descended, leaving Aya with a face full of fist.  
  
"I heard." He muttered, forcefully prying the hand away.  
  
"Oh, okay." Omi shrugged slightly before skipping back to Ken's door.  
  
"I'm going." Aya disappeared inside his room for a moment before returning, now sporting a jacket atop the oversized sweater.  
  
"But.wait!" Omi yelped, making a mad dash for his own room for a coat. "I want to come!"  
  
"Then come." Aya bit out, grabbing his keys and headed for the door.  
  
Ken chose that moment to appear, boxer-clad and mumbling something about coffee.  
  
"He's awake! Go get dressed! I'll make you some!" Omi offered, bouncing towards the kitchen. "Aya, don't you leave without us!" After a short glower and a growl, Aya changed course for the living room, flopping down on the sofa to wait. Omi appeared a second later, sporting a confused expression. "Where's the coffee grounds?" He asked. Shrugging, he returned to the kitchen. "I think I remember where Ken keeps the instant stuff. Maybe I'll make myself some for myself."  
  
  
  
"Mister Kudou," A doctor pleaded, his hands open in a neutral gesture. Youji backed farther into the corner, shaking his head and mumbling to himself. "Mister Kudou!" He tried again.  
  
Youji tripped backwards over the cart that held his IV drip, the metal stand clattered, the needle imbedded in his elbow pulled painfully, the tape tearing away from the delicate skin. Youji attempted to protest audibly, but his body was refusing to function. After the initial shock of waking up in an unfamiliar phase had passed, Youji had reverted to his fearful demeanor. He wanted to know where he was. He wanted to know why he had bandages over healing wounds. He wanted to know why he was filled with this irrational fear. He didn't want to be approached. But the doctor was doing just that, leaving Youji jittery. Although he visibly shied away from the man with the splinted nose, he was too stubborn to ask him to stop. It never occurred to him to voice his fears, and instead found himself searching the room for anything resembling a weapon.  
  
"Now, I know you may be frightened, but I assure you, I am perfectly safe. I'm your doctor, and I'd never do anything to hurt you. I just want to take a look at your injuries and ask you a few questions. Now, how about you get back in bed before." The man spoke in a soothing voice, his hands open the entire time, revealing he held no weapon.  
  
The doctor stepped back defensively as he watched Youji stand and lunge for something in one graceful motion. Youji bit his lip hesitantly, unsure as he laid hands on the glass pitcher filled with fresh cut flowers.  
  
"Shit!" The doctor cursed loudly as the pitcher shattered against the wall behind him. Although he'd avoided injury, he'd been startled and was now covered with water and an floral assortment. "What was that for?" The doctor snapped without thinking.  
  
Youji immediately regretted his actions. "Eh." He unconsciously curled, shuffling until his back was wedged between into the angle of the walls. "S.n." He couldn't seem to work his tongue, it being clenched between his back teeth.  
  
"Ah, no." The doctor shook his head, reorienting himself. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled. Would you please get back in bed?" He shook a few droplets of water from his sleeves. "If you would prefer, we can talk a bit before your check-up."  
  
Youji immediately scrambled to obey, climbing into the bed and tucking blankets securely around his legs. He was disgusted at how weak willed he seemed, but relief that the man wasn't upset out weighed any of it. Making no move to speak, he simply nodded, wringing the extra bit of sheet between his hands. If all else failed, he could probably defend himself with the makeshift noose.  
  
"Now Youji," The doctor placed a hand over his own shaking pair. "Calm down, I am just here to help." Youji pulled his hands away, loosing his stopgap weapon but unwilling to retain contact. The doctor had set himself down on the chair beside the bed, removing his hand from the blankets he grabbed for the clipboard hanging on the wall.  
  
"So," His soothing tone turned upbeat in the blink of an eye. "It seems your injuries are healing nicely." He smiled; Youji cringed in response. "They still hurt?" The doctor chuckled, mistaking the cringe as response to his injuries, rather than the smile.  
  
"I'll have the nurse bring some painkillers in a bit. We're confident that any internal bleeding you had has passed, and will no longer pose a problem. Recent tests we've done show that your brain activity is normal. No problems there." Youji listened to the doctor drone on, hearing but not comprehending. He couldn't pinpoint why he was injured. Extensive thought on the issue brought him scraps of emotions and pictures, but no real explanation. Youji hadn't realized he'd zoned out, but the next few words snapped him back to reality. "don't have to get over it. Something as traumatic as rape isn't easy to deal with, but you should know there are people you can talk to. I'd like you to see our resident rape counselor, and possibly a psychiatrist. Such information as the identity of your attacker and whether you want to press charges will be dealt with later, but for now, just tell me. How are you feeling?" Youji stared blankly at the kind face. The word 'rape' wasn't quite settled in his mind.  
  
"I." The doctor watched as Youji began to speak, but witnessing the overeager listener, Youji stopped. 'I don't know anything.' He admitted to himself. 'But I don't know if he should know that.' He briefly scanned the room, hoping for any sign that would tell him what to do. "I don't really remember." He admitted, his voice trembling. The doctor's face fell farther. "When."  
  
"That's okay." The doctor moved to pat his hand again. Youji flinched visibly and the doctor pressed his hands together instead. "You were admitted a while after the attack, for a head wound, and any drugs that may have been used had passed through your system. If there were drugs, they would have affected your memory." The doctor seemed to run out of things to say, and Youji sighed in relief, thinking the man was about to leave.  
  
"What we really need to address as an issue," The doctor paged through a stack attached to his clipboard, reorienting himself with names and specific details of the days passed. "Is the benefits of remaining with your current roommates. Although we are confident that they had no hand in the active cause of your current state, neglect is obvious. We can only wonder how much help they will be in your current state.  
  
Youji openly gaped at the doctor. "My roommates, neglect? Who the hell is we?" Despite the lingering irrational fear of angering the man, he was quick to defend his friends. "They wouldn't do anything to me! You can't make me! Who the hell do you think you are?" Reflecting on the words that had just left his mouth, Youji considered whether anything had made any sense.  
  
"I didn't mean anything by it, its just that, generally, living in that violent of an atmosphere would only worsen a state such as you are in now. We are not pushing you to do anything drastic, I simply wished to address the issue so that you might think about it. For the time being, I suggest you remain under the hospital's care so we might provide further aid."  
  
Youji stared up at him blankly. Finally fed up with the contradictory remarks and confusing speeches, Youji said the only thing he could think of. "Why are you wearing a nose splint?"  
  
"Aya! We have to sign in!" The red head went striding past the receptionist. Omi gave her a weak smile before. "Tsukiyono, Hidaka, and Fujimiya to see Kudou." He mumbled. Apparently, the receptionist had remembered the trio and simply waved them by. "This is so embarrassing!" Omi started down the corridor with Ken at his side. "She only remembers us because we always end up making a scene!" He whined. Ken patted the boy on the back with a smile.  
  
"At least we're memorable." He said, turning through the maze in pursuit of Aya.  
  
"But we're assassins! We're supposed to have stealth on our side." Omi murmured in defeat. They came to Youji's room, only to find Aya standing in the doorway.  
  
"Why are you wearing a nose splint?" They heard the question voiced. Aya was frozen, whether from irritation or embarrassment, no one could tell.  
  
"Nose splint!" Ken hissed in amusement, at least having the sense to keep quiet. Omi jabbed him in the ribs painfully.  
  
"Its not funny." He kept his voice down, waiting to hear the doctor's response. The doctor was given no chance to provide one as the pair inside the room became aware of the redhead's presence.  
  
"Aya!"  
  
"Mister Fujimiya!"  
  
"Why are you wet?"  
  
The three all spoke at once. Ken dissolved into further giggles as Omi pushed Aya in through the doorway, dragging him behind.  
  
"Wet?" Omi inquired curiously, noting the shattered vase and flowers by the wall to his right. "What happened here?" He asked, connecting the broken vase with the water on the doctor. "Youji?"  
  
"I.overreacted?" Youji flushed meekly. The doctor nodded in agreement before beginning to assuage his fears.  
  
"It's quite alright, people tend to do that around me." He noted in good humor, sending a glance in Aya's direction.  
  
"What caused him to overreact?" Aya took a threatening step forward. Omi immediately introduced himself between his temperamental elder and the dripping Ph.D.  
  
"I." The doctor faltered for a second, a 'Please don't hit me' expression on his face. "Youji and I were just having a talk." He reassured quickly. Aya stepped forward and Omi extended an arm to hold him back.  
  
Aya halted his approach, his eyes darting to Youji for confirmation that the doctor truly was as harmless as he sounded. Ken was still snickering in the background, not helping Omi's cause. "Aya," The boy warned, he was prepared to catch any offensive attack the redhead might make.  
  
"Hn." Aya eyed the doctor one last time before returning his gaze to Youji. "How did this happen?" He bit out. Omi made a small attempt at changing the topic but was firmly ignored.  
  
"Jus' got scared." Youji mumbled, barely audible. The population of the room leaned forward to hear better, causing the ever-wary Youji to scramble backwards and off the bed.  
  
"Mister Kudou!" The doctor lunged forward to save his patient from the fall. But Aya, still distrustful of the doctor, grabbed hold of his dripping lab coat, pulling him off balance. Three of the five occupants of the room landed on their asses, Ken's snickering birthed full fledged laughter and Omi patiently righted each of the men.  
  
"Really!" Omi admonished once the three were seated, Aya and the doctor in opposite corners. "When you're ready to behave like adults, we have things to discuss." Ken bit his lip to quiet himself. Goofing up now would only further the wrath of Omi.  
  
With a huff, a whimper, and an apology, they settled down for their discussion.  
  
Across town, in a professionally decorated apartment, Crawford berated Schuldig.  
  
"If you would settle down and do as I say the first time, I wouldn't have to yell!" Brad screamed, causing the German to shift uncomfortably in his chair. "Wipe their minds, completely. I don't want the slightest suspicions left!" Schuldig picked at the nonexistent dirt under his nails. "If you leave things as they are, they'll piece together clues and you will be held responsible!" Schuldig let out a sigh, moving to the next hand.  
  
"God-damn-it, Schuldig! This is no longer a game! You've had your fun now end it before it gets out of hand!" The American hit the younger man's hands from in front of his face, grabbing his chin to look into his eyes. "It. Will. Not. Happen. Again. Complete the job." He hissed for emphasis.  
  
Schuldig jerked his head away, standing up to stride calmly out of the room with a final thought. 'Now if I did that, how would Nagi play with his toys?'  
  
A/N: This chapter took an unusual amount of time and I'm not quite satisfied. I'm considering rewriting the entire series thus far. I'm not happy with the current quality of my writing and everywhere I look is a plot hole. I'm also trying to resist the urge to work on the five other Weiss Kreuz Fanfics I have in my head. * Sigh * But I promised I'd finish Stimulus first, so here we are. I think we're almost halfway. * Sigh * I realize its tedious and long.but I just love torturing Youji. * Smile * There's no where left to go but up! Well, not really.I'm much too much of a sadist to let the ride be smooth. I haven't even gotten started with Aya and Youji! * cheers * Did you know lemons are scary to write? Yes, they are. Now I'm shutting up again.  
  
Just review if you want more. Or if you want to beg me to stop. Just remember that I only write more if I receive lots of reviews. * Sigh * I'm a whore for reviews.I realize that.Review! 


	13. Chapter Eleven

Stimulus

Written by Eternitys End

Edited by Felicity Honenburg

Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss Kreuz, nor am I trying to infringe upon the rights of whoever owns it, etc. etc. 

Warning: Yaoi, aka Male x Male Relations.

A/N: This is a really weird chapter. Its also in first person, which is really odd for me. I apologize in advance, but I must admit. It was fun to write! Please review.

Chapter Eleven

Youji's Point Of View:

A key part of being an assassin is relying on instincts. Hell, who am I kidding, a key part of _me_ is relying on my instincts. 

I can count on both hands the number of times they've led me astray. If you disregard all instinctual decisions involving Asuka, only one hand is needed. Discredit alcohol-related incidents and they've never led me wrong. 

I guess that's why I'm taking this so badly. 

My instincts aren't working lately. I'm jumping at the slightest movement, cringing at the slightest touch. I threw flowers at my doctor! Its embarrassing and unnerving and I just can't seem to adjust. 

They say its normal after a trauma such as mine.

Trauma. 

Right. Rape. Weird, huh. You'd think I would remember that. Funnier still is the fact that I think I do. Or at least, I did remember it. But not now. Maybe it isn't so funny. A blow to the head can induce amnesia. Internal bleeding and all that, the effects can be devastating. I'm lucky to get away with however little that I have. Lucky. Me. Raped with no memory of it. Right. 

The others, they've noticed that my instincts are out of sorts. Or at least I think they did. Maybe they just think its me. Aya's being weird about all of it. He was a bastard to the doctor. Not that he's not normally a bastard, but he was _really_ bastard-y. He doesn't like doctors. Hospitals either. Guess its too much to ask that he actually care or anything. 

Yeah, definitely too much. 

But he's getting me out of here. They're filling out papers right now. He's handling the bill. I wonder how much extra he's going to tag me for doing this generous service. Ugh, so much for the new interior for Seven. 

Omi's looking at me. I don't know what's so interesting. I looked in the mirror when they let me change. Guess they think that a male rape victim doesn't want to be walking around with his ass bare to the world. Stupid gowns, why do they make them like that? 

Omi's still looking at me. Ken went with Crumple-Nose and Aya. Okay, so that was mean. He's my doctor, even if he has a funny nose. There's a story behind that, I'd bet. There's always a story. 

I wish Omi had gone with them. I really don't think he wants me out of the hospital. He's an expert at the puppy dog eyes. Its really weird to be on the receiving end of them. Especially when they're pitying you, not begging. 

I wish Ken had stayed. He seemed to find this entire situation entertaining. No sympathy. Even if I want to hurt him for laughing at me. 

Even Aya would be better than these puppy eyes. But he's handling billing. Crumple-Nose…er…the doctor said something about the shop being an unsafe environment. He's obviously never been there. We keep up with all the safety regulations. Being sued would be a major pain, it'd attract too much attention. Anyway, Aya will take care of everything. He's good in professional mode. Even if he's a bastard about it.

They're back. Doctor Splint, ah yes, a much better name, Doctor Splint is looking disapproving again. Aya's keeping himself between the doctor and me. Omi's keeping himself between the doctor and Aya. Ken's looking out of place. If this weren't so uncomfortable, it'd be funny. But I'm back in my clothes. Modest ones at that. It's not nearly as uncomfortable as it had been. Maybe I'm back in control? 

No, spoke too soon. That was stupid of me. Flinched. Coward. He was just giving me a paper to sign. Kudou Youji. There, done and done. No reason to squirm. Nothing to be afraid of. 

Can I get out of here now? The doctor nodded. He's giving me more directions. Aya has them all apparently. 

Aya. Why Aya and not Omi? Don't they know Omi likes playing mother hen? No, apparently not. 

Bed rest is in order. I like those words. Sleep. Being doted on. Having my every whim catered to. Being able to complain freely. 

Only a few days of bed rest, though. Nyeh to him. 

I have to work out my aches and exercise is the best way to do so? I don't like where this conversation is headed. I get plenty of exercise on missions. Until then, I'm allowed to be lazy. 

No heavy lifting, don't move too fast, reading might make me dizzy? Okay, these I can work with. Excuse fodder. 

Post Concussion Syndrome. PCS, heh, phone company. 

Am I comfortable walking out of here? Hell, yes! 

Too enthusiastic? Oh well. 

I'm free to come back any time. Remember that. Yeah, yeah, I will. _Not._ A hospital is the last place I want to be. They're beds are so _tiny. _

If anything goes wrong, contact them immediately. I'm being released strongly against their recommendation. Their? When did my doctor become a plural? Oh well.

Omi's leading the way. They brought Aya's car, enough seats for us all. Do I want shot gun? Am I comfortable sitting in the back? The girls missed me. Great. Now even Ken's dishing out sympathy and acting all awkward. 

Omi's already in mother mode. He has soup for me at home. Joy of joys. The creamy kind, I've gotten too skinny. And he threw out my cigarettes? Since when has he had the right to do this! Can we please, please, please stop at the convenience store on the way home? Aya won't respond. Probably safest for him, I know he's secretly siding with me. He just doesn't want to oppose Mother-Omi. He's scary when he's like that. 

Ha! Ken's cowering. I guess the tension's getting to him. I'm being a snotty brat. Aya's being a cold bastard. Omi's being an overprotective chicken. Poor guy, but at least he's not laughing anymore. Or sympathizing. 

Home. A nicotine free home. I don't think I like this place anymore. If I stayed at the hospital, I'm sure I could have at least gotten the patch. Its amazing how many doctors smoke. But I'm home at least. Familiar surroundings. And no work for a while. I'm sure I could even sucker Ken into bringing his little personal television set into my room. I should really get one of those for myself. Ah, well, there's always time for that later. Mooching is just as good. 

A/N: REVIEW! Its been a while, hasn't it? And its really jumpy and weird to boot. I don't know why, but I had an insane urge to do this chapter this way. I hope at least someone understood what was happening. A few chapters from now there's going to be an Aya PoV like this. And a few after that is an Omi PoV. Poor Ken, I don't have plans for any insane first person ramblings! At least its an update. One step closer to the end! *Cheers for self!* 

Lately, I've been working on two things. One being a sadistic Farfarello piece that is also a Schuldig x Farfarello fic (with Schu actually IN CHARACTER!!! *pointed cough at cold child*). I'm not sure I'll even post it on Fanfiction.net considering its goes into some pretty intense stuff that could get me in trouble with even an R rating. But that leads me to the second thing I've been working on! MY WEBSITE!!! Its basically just intro pages right now, with very few fics actually posted, but its coming along. Eventually, all my fics (or at least the ones I'm not considering deleting) will be posted there, and I'm LOOKING FOR SUBMISSIONS!!! If you would like to have any of your work hosted on my site, please leave me a review saying so or email me at Ba23_98@yahoo.com 

To check out my site, go to: 


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